Craig Brothers: The Beginning
by onlooker38
Summary: Two brothers: a marine and a mercenary discover a device that can teleport them to any universe of their choice. As they dodge DARPA, Spec-ops, and Dark Lords, the two men shift from world to world and into their next great adventure. Multi-universe crossover with original characters as protagonists. HP crossover with book five.
1. Chapter One: World Shifter

**Craig Brothers: The Beginning.**

** This is an introduction I've had for a massive multi-verse crossover. Like a lot of writers, I enjoy thinking about what I would do to change or help some of the fantasy genres. A kind of what would you do scenario. The Craig Brothers are two completely fictional characters. Both men share a few of my personal attributes but they have a far darker outlook on life. All of the universes these men visit are from movies, books, and shows that I enjoy. **

**The Multi-verse (Not in order)= Forgotten Realms – Harry Potter – Dune – Star Fist – Armor – Halo (books) – Inheritance Cycle – Kingkiller Chronicles – Fallout 3 – Starwars – Startrek – Stargate SG1 – Terminator 4 – Babylon 5 – Starcraft 2 – Skyrim – XMEN – Lord of the Rings (movie) – Wing Commander – Ashes Series – Fallen Dragon – Guants Ghosts – Starfist – Falling Skies – Deathlands – The Walking Dead – Avengers – Dawn of the Dead – Transformers (movies) – Other universes will open up as I discover them. **

**I don't normally spell and grammar check my work. I just don't have the time to edit something that will not be published. Hopefully I will not make many mistakes anyway, but if you see a misspelled or incomplete word, just fill in the blanks yourself. Sorry for an inconvenience to you. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of these worlds. I am not making any money through their use. I am tweaking their ideas only. **

Chapter One: World Shifter

It was a tazer. That was the closest Lieutenant Nathan Craig could liken the feeling to. Ever muscle locked up the the worst cramp of his life. Electric fire blitzing through his veins as he struggled to hold down a scream of pain.

He lay on the muddy ground seizing in agony as the world spun around him, a whirlwind of unnatural blue light. Despite the pain, Nate shifted his eyes around him spotting twenty other figures in various states of crippling pain. Just like him. Nate's mind calculated the time left before the world shifter finished it's work.

Twenty-five seconds left.

Not enough.

Nate growled and clamped his jaw shut. He uses every ounce of strength left to roll over on his side, freeing up the Glock 21 in a holster at his hip. Nate focused on the butt of his sidearm and willed his hand to move towards it, fighting the pain inch by agonizing inch. The blue light danced around his prone form teasing him with it's beauty, spinning faster and faster as they shifted back into their own reality.

Fifteen seconds.

His fingers brushed against the tip of the butt. Nate used the friction to crawl another inch along the molded plastic. He dared not glance around for fear of losing his concentration in the light show.

Five seconds.

Finally, Nate's hand firmly clasped around the grip of his Glock. As the last few moments of the shift bled away, a boon of strength poured into his unclenched muscles. His thumb snapped open the retention strap and Nate drew the weapon rolling three feet to the right. He propped up his arms on the muddy ground and snapped off four quick shots. The weapon booming in his hands.

Four agents went down, blood stars fountaining on their combat vests. Nate shifted his aim and nailed two more of the troopers before he leaped to his feet and dashed forward several meters. Nate scooped up his REPR sniper rifle, and dived behind the bulk of an LAV. Assault rifle fire strafed his last prone position. Bullets thudding into the dirt, following a stiff line towards him. Soon the thuds escalated into pings as the rounds ricocheted off of his new cover.

The Bradley Fighting Vehicle bore the small arms fire stoically. The LAV would never move from that spot again, having been neatly sheared in two by the world shift.

Nate slapped mud off of the receiver of his rifle and flipped up the scope covers. He edged closer to the edge of his cover and peaked around the side, scoping out the agent's positions. A hail of gunfire made him dive back around the side.

"It shouldn't have to be like this LT." A voice called from beyond the LAV. Nate shook his head and muttered a curse under his breath. That had to be one of the DARPA agents calling out to him. Probably the same one that killed his spotter in the other world.

Nate shook his head and repressed those thoughts. He assessed his situation, flinching as another wave of gunfire hammered into his cover. He was pinned down, and the agents were probably flanking him on both sides. He needed a way to distract them to he could effectively counter attack. And idea popped into his head immediately.

Popping his REPR around the right side of the LAV, Nate unloaded half a dozen rounds blindly at the general direction of the bad guys. The return fire was withering in it's intensity. Nate repeated the action twice more before leaning back and changing magazines. He grabbed an M84 flash bang from his combat vest and yanked the charging ring, keeping his hand firmly clasped to the spool.

Rising to his haunches, Nat tossed the flash bang to the right side of the LAV. He scurried to the left side and opened his mouth while closing his eyes. A good two seconds later the grenade detonated.

FLASH! BANG!

The flash lit up the dark night burning through Nate's eyelids despite being closed. The concussion of the bang thudded through his chest and shook his bones to the core. The ringing that stabbed into his ears was painfully obvious.

Nate waited a beat before snatching up his REPR and spinning around the _left_ side of the LAV. He smiled grimly as half a dozen agents stumbled around in his sights. Six quick shots popped their heads like overripe watermelons.

Nate was up and running, diving behind a earth berm near to the entrance of the Russian factory where this hell started. He poked his head around the berm and chuckled at the fool agents. After regaining their composure they resumed their suppressing fire on the LAV.

The flash bang had worked perfectly. Nate was betting these assholes were glued to the right side of the LAV waiting for him to pop back around for another few shots with his rifle. The grenade would have taken them completely unawares, eyes wide open for the shearing flash.

Nate levered his rifle onto the berm and unloaded another magazine on the agents. The heavy .308 round punching through the light segments of cover a few of the agents used to protect themselves. A withering hail of gunfire thudded into the berm blasting shoots of dirt high into the air. Nate jerked back from the berm, tucking his rifle in close to his body. But he wasn't fast enough.

Two round cut through the edge of the berm and struck him in his unarmored shoulder, ripping out bloody chunks of flesh. Nathan roared in pain.

The gunfire stopped immediately leaving a deafening silence behind, broken only by the occasional groans of the wounded and the thundering rainfall.

"You still alive, Craig?" A voice called out into the clearing. Nate grabbed a gauze strip from a pouch and slapped it over the wound. He glanced back over the berm. He could see several figures moving out into the open. One stood facing his side of the factory. A m249 machine-gun clutched in his hands, the muzzle pointing right at Nate's cover.

Immersed in a puddle of muddy water, half submerged and still blinking it's yellow flashing light, lay the device. The piece of shit that started this whole cluster fuck.

The world-shifter.

"It didn't have to end this way. You could've just gone along with it. Taken your cut and walked. You just had to make things difficult," The agent cried out. Nate remembered the bastard's name was Barker. Agent Ted Barker.

"Bates, When is the nuke due?" Barker loudly asked. Nate froze at the word.

Nuke?

"Fifty three minutes. We better be out of here in ten," Bates replied. Nate guessed the agent to be on the far right due to his voice.

"You hear that, Craig? Fifty minutes and everything within a three mile radius will be incinerated. You included."

Nate shook his head. He glanced around for a way out but found nothing within the vicinity. He sat crouched behind a three foot earth berm on the edge of the old Russian factory. Scratch that, a very new Russian weapons research laboratory. There were at least four surviving agents left in the courtyard, and more than likely they were moving to flank him on all sides.

"Bates, grab the module and evac!" Barker shouted.

"Fuck you, Barker!" Nates shouted. His arm throbbed in response, pain giving way to a disconcerting numbness.

"Don't hate me for you're own failings lieutenant. The truth is this mission was rigged from the start. You really think the United States Government would let a lowly Force Recon Marine live after this? It's national Security. Bates?"

Nate risked a peek over the berm. He saw one of the agents stoop to pick up the world-shifter. The blinking yellow light flashing menacingly on the front panel. A large red button showing off the activation switch.

The switch!

Nate unslung his REPR and checked the magazine. He shoved his entire head up above the berm before immediately dropping down. A firestorm of bullets ripped into the dirt. Geysers of dust and earth shot up into the air. At the lull, Nate popped up again, sighted down the Leopold scope and squeezed off a single round.

The 168gr. Match grade bullet traveled the hundred feet in a nanosecond before pinging off the activation switch of the world-shifter. A half count later and the device powered up. Yellow blinker replaced with a flashing red and a high pitched whine. All of the agents spun to look at the device right before it activated.

A flash of blue light filled the courtyard, searing into Nathan's eyes, blinding him to what happened next. As the blue light captured the four organic figures in it's chosen radius, Agent Ted Barker and his men disappeared from the muddy clearing.

When Nate finally rubbed the pain from his eyes he looked at the clearing and sighed in relief. He glanced at his watch and noted he had forty nine minutes before the arrival of the nuke. Plenty of time. Rising up to his feet, Nate hurriedly walked over to one of the three massive transport trucks parked in front of the laboratory. He stepped over the bodies of a dozen elite Spetznaz soldiers, the guardians of the convoy, before stopping behind the third truck.

From the depths of the flatbed, Nate yanked out a large silver Samsonite container, grunting under it's fifty pound weight. He dropped the suitcase to the muddy ground and unclasped the lid, A once over checked the contents to make sure everything was secure. What Nate held in his hands was a second device.

A whole different world shifter.

The Russians said it best. Why build one when you can get two at twice the price. Hell, Nate didn't even know if the device was purely human built or not. The futuristic outer casing and four star clamps looked rather alien to the marine's keen eyes. Nate didn't know much about how the device worked, but after having experienced it's affects first hand he knew the value of such an object.

Snapping the lid closed, Nate lifted it's weight and jogged over to one of the smaller vehicles he and his squad had arrived in. The buggy was a Light Strike Vehicle, LSV for short, a three seater with a mounted heavy machine gun or like weapon on the back. It had a firing ark of 180 degrees, and could handle anything from a .50 Browning M2 to a Mark 19 grenade launcher.

But Nate didn't care about the main gun. No he was more concerned with the all machine construction and lack of a computerized fuel injection engine. Both would be crucial when the nuke finally hit. He stowed the world-shifter in the second passenger seat and hopped in, jamming his thumb down on the ignition switch. The LSV fired up immediately and growled quietly as Nate glanced at his wristwatch.

Forty-five minutes to hell.

He stamped his foot down on the accelerator and the LSV shot off the mark, driving hard into the black depths of the roiling thunderstorm. Nate gunned the engine hard shooting the meter past its top speed. He chuckled to himself over the circumstances.

_I've never outrun a nuke before!_


	2. Chapter Two: The Other Brother

**Don't worry these guys are going to destroy the Harry Potter universe, they just gotta meet up and get over the shock. HP universe by chap 4, but I highly recommend you read until then. **

The Craig Brothers: The Beginning

Chapter 2: The Other Brother

Scott Alexander Craig received first wind of his brother's death under the scorching African sun in South Sudan. It was a simple message detailing the circumstances, listing a classified mission with a merciful death, heroic action and heartfelt condolences. Scott hadn't cared about any of it. To him a letter of condolence was just another way the military said fuck you for your service. That was one of the reasons he had left, a small one.

What Scott cared about more was the date of transmission did not match the time of death. According to the letter Nate had passed some three weeks ago. And yet Scott was receiving the word now? With all his backwater contacts in the US Army he expected to be notified the moment the letter was drafted. The US Military may be wrapped in a thousand rolls of red tape but they were definitely efficient in sending out death letters.

Scott glanced once more over the letter before he turned off the Sat phone and let his head roll back with a sigh. A lump of grief welled in his throat and threatened to take over. Scott ruthlessly quashed it and shoved the greasy ball into an unused compartment. That's what you did on jobs like these; compartmentalize.

Raul Mbutu Walked over to him and nudged Scott with the muzzle of his rifle. Scott's hand shot out and grabbed the AK at it's gas piston, shoving the weapon away from him. He glared at the other man.

"How many times have I told you not to do that?" Scott sneered at him. Mbutu laughed.

"Too many, Friend." He said in broken, yet passable English. "Are you well?"

"I'm fine. My brother died on a mission, I just got word." Scott replied. He shoved the phone into a pocket of his BDUs and snatched up his FAL. Mbutu stilled at Scott's pronouncement. He waited for a beat and then spoke, as having observed a moment of silence.

"He was a good warrior? Good as you?" he asked. Scott snorted.

"Better than me, Mbutu. Far better. Hows the principle?" Scott asked, changing the subject. He was referring to the man the two mercenaries were charged with guarding a one Bailij Dhekonda, a secretary to the new governmental ministry set up during South Sudan's civil war with the north. Dhekonda was seen as the third most important man in the South, and as such he needed to be protected for the stability of the region.

"Being stupid," Mbutu muttered under his breath. He gestured behind him. Scott groaned as he saw his principle, standing tall on a sandstone wall, giving a heartfelt speech to a dozen rebel soldiers. This was but one stop in a long chain of speeches to bolster the flagging lines. The accumulated value of Dhekonda's suit, shoes, and jewelry could buy every rebel around him a good AK and another thousand rounds of ammo. The disparity was as humorous as it was pathetic.

"Get him down from there before a sniper nails him," Scott ordered. Mbutu and two other contractors immediately moved towards the secretary, shouldering their way through the crowd of rebels. Scott's radio squawked, he grabbed his mike and gave his name almost without conscious thought.

"Craig here,"

"Sherlock, we got Intel." That was Alex "Sherlock" Barnaby, a fellow contractor and excellent front line scout.

"Trouble?" Scott asked.

"Big time. Front is shifting, a lot of fucking shit is about to drop." Sherlock said sarcasm dripping from his voice, even over the radio.

"Trouble for us?"

"I'd say, you have a batch of T-55s and a couple companies of SPLA advancing on your sector. Six miles out ETA twenty minutes."

"Thanks, bug out to station three. Principle will be along shortly,"

"Roger,"

Scott waved Mbutu over and sent the African to get their trucks warmed up. He sent an advisory to his team over the radio while checking each of their trucks for fuel supplies. Station three was a good forty miles to their south in very friendly territory. Scott hated running from a fight, but his first and final objective was to ensure the safety of his principle.

The Sudanese People's Liberation Army, or SPLA for short, did not worry Scott in the slightest. Despite their numbers, the SPLA were poor shots and composed entirely of an undisciplined rabble. With no combat tactics, or official training of any kind, Scott felt sure enough that his team could handle most problems. But those T-55s gave him pause. Despite being forty years old, their 100mm main guns could pack a wallop. And Scott had nothing in his compliment that could penetrate tank armor.

Scott glanced back towards the armored truck, the principle's Land Rover and did a double take when he saw the vehicle was empty. He looked around frantically before settling on Dhekonda shaking hands and handing out cheap cigarette packs to the morose rebels. Scott shook his head.

"Mbutu?" The African looked up at the call.

"Why the fuck isn't he on board?" Scott pointed viciously at his principle.

"I asked, he won't go."

"Tell him again! In twenty minutes tanks and infantry are going to fuck this position. I want his fat ass in the car in three minutes!" Scott shouted. In a more subdued tone he spoke into his mike. "Convoy give me a sitrep,"

"Car one, ready to go."

"Car two, up."

"Car three, awaiting principle."

"Car four, ready."

Scott sighed. At least his team was ready to go. All nine members of the personal detail were loaded up and awaiting orders. The only ones still waiting around were Mbutu, Dhekonda and Scott. Scott's radio cut in with a lot of hash and then muffled gunfire. There was a scream of pain that made Scott's blood run cold.

"Alex? Sherlock, report?"

"Bug out now! SPLA units behind friendly lines!" Sherlock's answer blared over their frequencies. He wasn't using a scrambler on his communications. That meant his entire team just got the broadcast.

"Sherlock, where—

"Primary highway blocked," More gunfire, " My buggy's down, facing two-zero probable targets. I have been shot." That was all Scott could catch as the connection was abruptly severed. He was moving immediately not sparing the transmission a second thought.

"Convoy, oscar mike in thirty secs." Scott reported. He ran full tilt towards the cheering crowd of rebels. Mbutu was closer and able to reach the principle first. The big African shoved three soldiers out of the way and roughly grabbed Dhekonda around his upper arms. Scott tackled his way through the soldiers and grabbed the front of Dhekonda's jacket. The two contractors shoved the dignitary towards the waiting vehicles.

The moment Scott's hand touched the door on Car three, Car 2 exploded. The shock wave slapped the three men to the ground and rattled their eardrums with the concussion. A second later the confused mass of South Sudanese soldiers were shredded by machinegun fire. Scott struggled to pick himself up. He forced open the vehicle door and tossed Dhekonda inside.

"We're oscar mike! Shoot anything that moves!" Scott yelled. He jumped in the passenger seat as the convoy slowly got underway. Scott shoved his FAL out the window and jammed his finger down on the trigger. The rifle belted out half a magazine ripping into the surrounding structures. Scott didn't really care if there were enemies in them or not, though it seemed the most logical conclusion.

"Mbutu! Get in the car and lets go! Mbutu!"

Scott risked a glance out the window behind them. He saw the big African mercenary face down in the sands, a ragged hole sawed through his skull. The pool of blood around his body seeped into the ground. Scott cursed at the sight.

Wade, their driver, was already pulling away from the action, smoothly pulling into a convoy with Car one and car four.

"Boss we got air!" Scott gave one last fleeting look to Mbutu's body before he spun around. The view through the front window wasn't much better.

"Dragonflies! Where the fuck did Sudan get Dragonfly attack choppers?" Scott raged. Wade didn't answer he yanked the radio off its cradle and told car one to slam on the gas. Scott leaned out of his window and emptied the FAL's magazine at the three hovering attack shoppers. As the black rifle hammered against his shoulder Scott could only shake his head and wonder at what he was seeing.

The Dragonfly Attack Chopper was a brand new invention of the US military. It was faster and more maneuverable than ninety percent of the competition. Sporting a weapons package much like the Comanche, the Dragonfly had silent running rotors and could literally creep up on a target from behind. In testing, one of the pilots landed a dragonfly on the White House roof, while Secret Service's backs were turned. Dragonfly was also a stealth chopper and completely invisible to all forms of radar and electronic scanners, even those employed by US troops.

So how in sacred fuck did the Sudanese get their hands on three?

The short and dirty answer scared Scott to the core: They didn't, this is America fucking me up!

Scott saw two white plumes of smoke puff out from the sides of the right Dragonfly. He could only watch as two Hellfire missiles streaked at their targets.

"Right! Right, right, right! Fucking right!" Scott shouted, he leaned across the cab and grabbed the wheel yanking it towards him and out of Wade's hands. Their car veered right and bounced as it drove across the sands.

Car One and Three were pulverized. Obliterated into a thousand pieces of burnt metal and cooked flesh. The double explosions rattled Scott's car as it bounced across the African plain. Dhekonda started screaming in the back seat. He had seen the whole thing. Scott yelled at the idiot to shut up. He hastily reloaded his FAL and glanced back in the rear window. The choppers were still hovering over the wreckage of Scott's convoy.

Suddenly three chain guns dropped from the nose of each chopper. They unleashed a torrent of heavy 20mm rounds, eating through the burnt wrecks of the vehicles.

"Oh fuck." Wade stated. He was looking through the rear view mirror. "They want us dead!"

Scott could only nod, it was overkill in the extreme.

One of the Dragonfly choppers turned towards them and powered forward. It's engines easily surpassing the speed of their armored car. The rotors were silent, creating an eery ghost to their rear.

"We need to run!" Scott yelled at Wade.

"What about him?" Wade shouted back. He stuck a thumb back at their principle. Scott promptly drew his Glock 21 and put a .45 slug through Dhekonda's head. The 230 grain bullet splashed a thick red paint over the back seat of the car.

"Fuck him! Not worth dying for. When you hit those trees up there we're going to bail! Got it?" Scott pointed out he small copse with his arm. Wade nodded and jammed his foot down on the accelerator. As he looked back at the Dragonfly, Scott knew immediately they weren't going to make it.

A small puff of air was the only warning he received.

"Fuck!" Scott rammed the door open with his shoulder and jumped, leaving a gaping Wade in his wake. Scott his the sandy plain and rolled, rifle and assault pack biting into his body at every bounce and turn. Finally his body tumbled to a stop, and the pain of a dozen bruises filled his senses.

He looked up just in time to see Wade and car three get fragged by a tracking Hellfire. The burning hulk starting it's own tumble as the momentum played out. Scott cursed again under his breath. His hands roved his remaining gear locating the FAL still hanging on by its two point sling. He slapped dirt off the weapon and shoved the butt to his shoulder. Still prone, Scott watched disgusted as the Dragonfly opened up on the wreckage with its 20mm chain gun.

Satisfied it had done the job the Dragonfly began a slow ark towards Scott's position. The 20mm chain gun lowered and Scott knew it was pointed right between his eyes. The dragonfly lowered until it was close enough that Scott could make out the pilot in the cockpit.

Shooting the thing would do no good, as it was armored almost as much as a tank.

Scott shook his head in disgust and stood up. He showed the chopper two middle digits and spat into the dust at his feet.

Then the rocket hit. It had no smoke trail, instead arcing gracefully over the plain to strike just forward of the tail rotor of the chopper. The explosion was short and small compared to the Hellfire missiles but the effect was perfect. Knocking the rotor to the side the nose of the chopper spun off target. A line of 20mm rounds ate at the dirt mere feet from Scott's legs. He jumped to the side and unloaded his second to last FAL magazine at the cockpit. Sparks and star bust flew around the glass, further distracting the pilot.

Scott slammed his last FAL magazine home. He dived behind a large piece of brush for the concealment. A stuttering staccato of noise caused him to look up at the chopper. Tiny explosions cratered off of the Dragonfly's armor, etching a line from tail to nose. The cockpit shattered under the fire. Gouts of misty blood exploded from the pilot and gunner. The whole chopper lifted up in the air, flying twenty meters past Scott before crashing into the ground. The resulting fireball warmed his back as he stood to locate his savior.

A hand tapped him on the shoulder.

"One would think You'd take better care of yourself out here, bro!"

Scott shook his head in disbelief.

"One would think you'd be dead … brother." Scott said he turned slowly to look a smiling Nathan Craig dead in the eyes.

**Reviews fuel the soul. Flames are fun to laugh at. **


	3. Chapter Three: Safe House

**For anyone who has played Far Cry 2 think of your favorite safe house. This is our world. Not some alternate reality or video game. Ours. The next one will be the start of the fun. **

Chapter Three: Safe House

"How the hell did you take down that chopper?" Scott asked. His mind was slowly catching up with current events. After Nate's rescue the two had made a run for the trees, to where Nate had an old truck stashed. They sped away quickly as there were still two more Dragonfly choppers in the area. Scott efficiently guided them to a safe house a good thirty kilometers from the lines.

"Motherfuckers, my own design." Nate grinned at the name. He detached a magazine from his REPR and slid off a cartridge of .308 before passing it over to his brother.

Scott inspected the cartridge. The bullet was longer than normal, denoting a higher than average weight. There were three different colors on the tip, the first was orange, followed by silver and green.

"Motherfuckers?" Scott passed the cartridge back. Nate couldn't keep a chuckle from escaping his lips. He slid the round back into the mag and slammed the box into his rifle.

"My own design. Back when I was sitting around Afghanistan with my thumb up my butt. It's an explosive armor piercing incendiary. A 185 grain bullet, with the first twenty five grains a high impact explosive charge. The incendiary is the silver behind it, followed by a 155 grain bullet copper jacket covering an armor piercing tungsten core. Enough punch in a magazine to eat through the armor of a Bradley. And as you saw out there, it's just murder on bullet proof glass."

Scott leaned against the wall of the small shack. He took in his brother's appearance, really analyzing him. Despite the smile, Nate had a haggard face with drawn cheeks and dead eyes. Scott saw the look on many a merc who was on a long mission. Nate's desert camouflage ghillie suit lay bunched up on their only cot. On top of the suit was a matching camouflage assault pack, only twice as big and looking like it weighed eighty pounds on the light side.

Nate had lost some weight, and his arms were crisscrossed with various scars and bruises. The dirty battle dress uniform was soaked through with sweat, and covered in large splotches of dried blood. The stench was awful, but in Scott's line of work he had smelled much worse.

The other brother watched as Scott looked him over. He propped his REPR up against the walls of their small hut, and drained two water bottles resting on the far shelf.

"What the hell happened to you?" Scott asked after a long pause. Nate sighed and eased back down to the cot.

"It's a long unbelievable story. You heave to understand it is going to seem a bit crazy." Nate started off. Scott barked a harsh laugh at him.

"My entire team just got wiped out by three of the most advanced attack helicopters in the world. Choppers that just rolled off the assembly line and which have no purpose in the hands of anyone but Americans. My own country just tried to kill me!" Scott told him sternly.

Nate smiled slightly.

"Yes there is that. Four weeks ago, I got yanked out of my platoon in Afghanistan by a squad of DARPA agents."

"DARPA?" That scared Scott shitless. The Defense Advanced Research Projects Agency was the US military's weapons development arm. Notorious for their ruthless pursuit of better technology, DARPA was renowned for butting their noses, and rifle barrels, into anything new with blowing things up in mind. The Dragonfly project could not have existed without DARPA and it's field agents.

"Yeah! Told me and my spotter we we're hand picked for a deep cover mission to extract some stolen intel from a Russian research post in Siberia. You know me, anytime a mission says suicidal I go with it. The place was a fucking fortress. They had tanks, Hind choppers, a company of Spetnaz paratroops, the works. These DARPA boys brought the house down with war tech I've never seen before. Anyway, we ghosted in, blew everything up and then rallied at the station. That's when the agent in charge, an asshole called Ted Barker, pulled this thing out."

Nate reached under the cot and slid out the large Samsonite container. The same one he pulled from the truck when they came to the safe house. He unlocked the case and propped the door open to let Scott look inside.

At the sight of the device Scott let out a low descending whistle.

"That's a bit alien, what is it?"

"Agents called it a world-shifter."

"And it does, what?" Scott asked, eyes never leaving the world … shifter.

"I'm getting to that. Barker punched some numbers into the pad on the front then typed out what he wanted on a folding keypad. This piece of shit lit up like the fourth of July. Then we all got hit with a tazer. Pain. Agony. That's the only way to muddle through it. About two minutes after that we were … somewhere else."

Scott waited while his brother gathered his thoughts.

"I can't explain it. We weren't on Earth anymore, brother. The sky was dark, and there were no stars. Just black. With two moons, one red and one blue. And there was no sun in the sky, but we weren't cold. It was an almost perfect temperature. And we could breathe. John, my spotter, noticed it first before everyone else; the ground was moving almost as if it was alive. There were these structures in the distance that looked organic, and they were massive, the size of mountains."

"We were just looking at everything for about fifteen minutes and then Barker and his agents started laughing and patting each other on the back. John and I went over to see what they were talking about and that's when we got a dozen guns in our faces. There were three sniper teams with John and I, and we were surrounded in a heartbeat. These were our own men! Americans pointing guns at Americans."

"Barker told us we had uncovered something big. Something that had to remain a state secret. He offered us a place on their field team and a few million dollars for out silence. I was thinking it over when that bastard had to keep rattling his mouth off. He told us we couldn't see our families again, and we had to appear dead in order to live. John's got himself a good woman and a little girl back in the states. He started cursing out the agents and ranting about his family."

"Those bastards didn't hesitate, they just blew him away. Three agents shot him in the head simultaneously. Then they turned their guns on the rest of us. By that time I was already moving, I shoved the gun in my face out of the way. Someone pushed me down from behind, I think it was one of the other sniper teams. Anyway both sides start shooting and this world-shifter gets knocked off it's crate. It lands right next to me and there's this big yellow flashing button on it. I can't read Russian so I think what the hell? I leap forward and jam my thumb down on the button. The thing brought us back to the research station."

Nate told him of the gunfight and the activation of the device for a third time. His escape from the nuke was rather straightforward. The LSV took him far past the danger zone of the radiation as well as the thermal and ground shock waves.

"I've been dodging DARPA agents and hit teams for the last four weeks, trying to reach you. Seems I arrived just in time!" Nate finished.

Scott simply stared at him, trying to wrap his brain around the fantastic story.

"Your story telling skills suck," Scott told him biding time. Nate simple shrugged and waited.

Finally after a long pause Scott said, "So this thing is in Russian. Does that mean it's Russian built?" Nate shook his head and shrugged again.

"No idea," he said, " Can you think of any piece of tech that could transport someone to a completely different world with two moons? Do the Russians have something like that?"

Scott snorted, "No way. They just barely finished their mission to the moon. Should be touching down tomorrow. If they had a way to travel there instantaneously they wouldn't spend the money for their space program."

"Maybe that's a front?" Nate speculated.

"Awfully lot of money to spend on misdirection. Besides I don't think the moon is the ultimate goal. It sounds like you were dropped off on a different world entirely."

"So you believe me?" there was a tense pause.

"You're my brother. Of course I believe you! Do you speak Russian?" Nat chuckled.

"Yeah, but I can't write or read it. To dyslexic to understand the sentences."

"No wonder you didn't read much when we were kids. Lucky enough for us, Russian was my study language in college. Let me see what we have here."

Scott put the Samsonite container on the cot and used it as a makeshift table. He put the world shifter on top and studied the device. It looked like a fat X with a bulbous head at the cross point. The edges were smooth and seamless save for the improvised keypad and digital computer screen. The main body was alien in construction and it was fairly obvious what had been added to make it user friendly to humans.

"This is definitely alien." Scott rhetorically stated.

"You think?" Came the sarcastic reply. "Can you read it?"

He punched a few curious buttons on the device and the screen lit up almost immediately.

"Must have some sleep feature on it, like a normal laptop. There are ports here for USB plug-ins. No start up screen, so there must be a military code for the translation process."

"Just shut up and read the damn thing!" Nat nearly shouted at him. A trace of a smile appeared on Scott's face. He was too absorbed in his work to answer back. It was an old joke with them. Scott prided himself on his high IQ and he was the scientist of the pair, despite the fact Nate was every bit as smart and intelligent. Nate understood every word out of Scott's mouth.

Scott scanned the display and mentally translated the words in his head. He pulled up a file labeled:

Identification World Base – Books.

The scrolling text was a confusing work up but once Scott got a feel for it he let out a low whistle.

"What?" his brother impatiently prompted.

"Nat you really found something here. This thing is listing a bunch of books that have been written in the last sixty years. It has them divided into genre and provides a summary with detailed information."

"What the fuck?" Nate breathed. He leaned over Scott's shoulder to look at the scrolling information.

"Thought you couldn't read Russian?" Scott asked him. Nate thumped his brother on the head.

"Fuck you, I can look can't I? What else does it say?"

"listing transport possibilities and locations. Holy shit!"

"What?"

Scott turned to his brother, an incredulous look all over his face.

"You ever want to visit the Harry Potter universe?" He said with a completely straight face. Nat leaned back from him. The seriousness in Scott's eyes was freaking him out. After he received no response Scott kept on, "Because that's exactly what this world-shifter does! It transports you from this world to an alternate universe. This is … this … this is huge!"

A thousand possibilities exploded in Nate's mind. He took to pacing around the hut each idea sounding more incredible than the last. If he hadn't seen the world himself, and gone through the process of transportation, then we would have put a bullet in his brain to end the insanity. This was just to crazy to properly acknowledge.

"It proves the infinite universe theory." Scott muttered.

"What theory is that?" Nate asked, grasping at a lifeline to explain the confusion.

"The idea that there are multiple universes in existence. That if our universe is infinite then the possibilities for more are also infinite. That there are parallel dimensions running in cohesion with our own. It's the multiverse. But it's all a bunch of theory and guessing. There's no real proof that the idea exists. This world-shifter proves it!"

"So technically there are worlds out there that match the stories and movies we've invented in this universe?" Nate asked. Scott shrugged.

"It fits within the theory. There are a lot of possibilities out there. And this thing allows you to travel between the worlds." Scott explained.

"Can you take anything with you? Or perhaps bring something back?"

"Well those agents had guns with them when you shifted to that world in Russia, right? I'm sure the same applies for bringing stuff back. Hell think of what you could do with that kind of power! No wonder those guys were happy."

The two brothers looked over the screen again.

"There are lists here for other things. Look here at the main screen:

Identification World Base – Movies

Identification World Base – Computer Games

Identification Wold Base – Earth Genres

Identification Wold Base – Television

Identification World Base – Art

Identification World Base – Fanfiction

Identification Earth Time – Century – Year

The list looked to be endless. Every idea, theme, or genre that had been invented seemed to have a corresponding world in the computer. Some had no possibility or chance of transport while others could teleport them to a certain location and time within a particular world. The list could be updated with new material, which could be uploaded through the USB ports. There was no internet connection which made sense as the information might overload the capabilities of the device. Neither brother wanted to think about remotely hacking into the machine and using it from a distance.

"I wonder what the range on this thing is? Like how big a radius can be transported." Scott wondered aloud. Nate answered immediately that it was at least thirty meters. He thought back to one of the Bradley Fighting Vehicles sheared in half by the edge of the transportation radius.

"Perhaps the radius can be extended to something much larger. It would be a bit useless if you could only transport yourself and a couple of buddies. That might be a feature we can configure on the computer. You said the Russians built two of these things?"

Nate nodded once. "Yeah, and those DARPA fuckers have the other model. They may have had time enough to shift back to this world and jump on some choppers before the nuke hit. I don't know."

Scott told him, "Those Dragonfly choppers tell us America wants us out of the way. If I was Barker I would make damn sure no one could mess around with another device."

Those thoughts brought them back to their current situation, sitting in the middle of the African Sahara with American attack choppers searching in the skies.

"Well where do you want to go?" Scott finally asked. He gestured towards the machine. Nat looked at him surprised.

"Oh don't look at me like that, Nate. It's obvious we can't go anywhere on this planet without getting shot. The Russians and the Americans are after us now! But this world-shifter gives us some possibilities. We could jump to an alternate version of our Earth. Somewhere that the two of us would not be hunted. Then we could fuck some people up."

After Nate got a moment to overcome his shock he grinned broadly.

"You're thinking too small, little brother. I was thinking about jumping out to kick Darth Vader's ass!" both Nate and Scott laughed at the idea. Then Scott sobered up as he really thought it over.

"Vader would probably fuck us up. Hell he'd pulverize the two of us in a second. Just cause we can move between worlds doesn't mean we're invincible." He said. Nate's smile disappeared as he too took in the implications.

"We would have to build ourselves up in strength if we had any chance. Maybe start small and get the things we'd need." Nate added.

"So what would our ultimate goal be? If the multiverse was open up to you, brother, what would you want?"

Nate and Scott were silent for several long minutes. Nate finally grunted and broke out an MRE from his large ALICE pack. Scott smiled slightly and retrieved his own rations. They set aside the world shifter and sat down to share a relaxing meal. The two had lived off of field rations for most of their lives. They understood how to tolerate the slop.

"I've missed this you know," Scott said finally. He sipped on a soft pack of concentrated juice, one of the few luxuries he allowed himself in the field. "remember when we'd have those sit down meals at the table?" Nate sighed in contentment for a moment as he relived the memory.

"Dad would tell us war stories of his time in Nam," Nate added. Scott chuckled. "You were always Charlie!" Nate laughed. Scott shot him a sour look. They lapsed into silence.

"I know what I want." Nate finally said, drawing Scott out of his musings. Nate continued, "I want a human empire. Our own Empire. I want to see Our Earth reach the stars and survive. I want to see us dominate the universe."

"I think Barker's got a handle on that already," Scott said.

"Barker!" Nat snarled low in his throat. " Barker doesn't care about anyone but Barker. Earth could burn around him, just so long as he gets what he wants. I want to see an Empire that outlasts Barker. I don't care what the government is or the politics. I just want to see us last."

"May I interrupt with one bit of selfishness?" Scott asked. "Perhaps it can be us who rules this Empire? Or perhaps after ensuring the continuity of our species, we could build our own little world? Somewhere far in the reaches of space." Scott dreamed aloud.

"Want to be a ruler then? Take it all for yourself?" Nate criticized. Scott laughed at him.

"Just thinking big here. If we're going to change our universe for the better might as well cut out a little piece of it for ourselves."

"I can't really think of the characters in those books as being real. Our universe is the real one. I just think of the rest as fakes. No real emotion or feelings for them or anything." Nate confessed. Scott agreed with him.

"Maybe that will change when we actually talk to them?" He added.

"So how are we going to do this, Nate? If we build up small we'll need to acquire money, valuable goods, and technology. Not necessarily in that order."

"Hell Scott, you were the geek of the family, you tell me?"

"Well we need to go somewhere that we can control the population without too much trouble. And while we're there we need to acquire an accepted form of currency. I'm thinking gold, since we can use it in every version of Earth we go to. So we're going to need to get a lot of it."

"Gold's heavy brother, how're we gonna carry all that?"

"Easy. The first world we shift to will be the Harry Potter universe. Say around book five just before Harry takes his stupid suicide trip to the ministry. We can buzz in there and purchase some enchantments for our backpacks, and make them bottomless."

"Bottomless?" Nate asked confused. He never read as much as his younger brother.

"Yeah, essentially a bottomless bag will carry anything you can fit into the top. You can have five hundred pounds of gear in a small day pack. I think it's proportional to how much space the bag gives you. Like that ALICE pack over there has 2400 cubic inches of space. Enchanted the bag will have 2400 cubic FEET. Then we can get some magic charms to make the bags weightless. That should give us the ability to carry lots of items. Then we can stock up on ammo and essentials."

"Anything else we want from that universe?"

"Perhaps some items from the Ministry that Harry visits. While we're there we can shoot the bad guys and raid their stores. I'm thinking we could get some time turners which are short range time machines. Perhaps some cloaks that turn you invisible. Can't think of anything else valuable to us, but more may come up as we poke around."

Nate was silent for a moment.

"I need to read those books again." He said. Scott chuckled. "This is in London, England, right?" Nate asked. After a nod from Scott Nate continued, " We're gonna have to blend in. That means no heavy weapons. I guess we take the bags we want to modify. That means we're going to be in deep cover. How much cash do you have?"

Scott rummaged around in his own assault pack. He yanked out a waterproof canvas pouch and poured the contents onto the floor of the safe house.

"five thousand in American, about a thousand in Euros. Five ounces of gold, with another ten in silver, and ten rough cut diamonds." Scott listed off the contents.

"Blood diamonds?" Nate asked, a hint of disgust behind his voice. Scott could only offer him a shrug.

"These African countries don't have much in the way or wire transfers between banks. I take what I can get. We can probably take this and get it exchanged at Gringotts." Scott said.

"Where?"

"The goblin run bank. We exchange this stuff for their gold currency and buy what we need. Then we can jump back and collect our heavy gear at the safe house. After which we return tot he HP universe and stock up on ammo, equipment, food, water, and other supplies. Then we fuck shit up for the bad guys before jumping again."

Nate grinned at him. "Where to after that?"

"We can decide that when we're done in the next universe. Right now I want to get as far away from Barker, America and this world as I possibly can. We'll come back when we're better armed."

The two brothers geared down for their adventure. They dressed in dark clothing from their packs, and concealed their handguns under the overlapping garments. Both men chose hoodies to hide their faces. The bags chosen to be modified were two large ALICE backpacks and two matching green US army surplus duffel bags. Either bag could hold a small mountain of gear and would be perfect for their needs.

Scott spent the next ten minutes filling in the shift parameters on the device. He set the shift time as a week before the ministry excursion undertaken by Harry Potter. The location was outside of the Leaky Cauldron in the very early morning. Hopefully any traffic through that area would not be awake enough to notice their arrival. Scott was surprised to find a further feature on the device that acted as a scanner.

The world shifter knew exactly who and what was located in the immediate vicinity. The radar could be stretched to a little over five hundred meters in any direction. Scott reduced the scan range to five meters. He was astounded that the machine identified two human bodies with numerous objects. The specificity of the options were incredible. Scott quickly punched in the two human bodies listed on the monitor as ready to travel.

"Are you ready?" He asked Nate. The big marine was adjusting his web belt over a black BDU jacket. Scott's keen eyes immediately picked up the butt of Nate's pistol under his jacket. Scott was similarly armed.

"Are we really doing this?"

"Why the hell not? It'll be fun! The next great adventure." Scott's enthusiasm neatly covered up his own trepidation.

Nate leaned down to punch the main flashing yellow button on the device. Scott's hand shot out and caught Nate's arm.

"Just how bad is this going to hurt?" Scott asked.

"You remember that time in Bolivia when you took that 5.56 in the upper arm? The feeling you had when the bullet turned your muscles inside out?"

Now grinning Nate mashed his thumb down on the button.

"Well fuck."


	4. Chapter Four: Diagon Alley

**The beginning of the HP crossover. Very slow build up but action expected by chapter six or seven. **

Chapter Four: Diagon Alley

Pain. Agony. Bright blue light. Coalescing electricity, numbing his veins and spasm the muscles. Terrible.

Then it was gone. Scott lay on his back in the middle of an empty London street, gasping for breath, every bone in his body shaking in torment. He blearily looked up to see Nate standing over him hands on his hips.

"H-how d-d-did y-you …" Scott tried to form words but he couldn't quite make his jaw work. Nate snorted and gave him a superior smirk.

"Third time through didn't hurt as much. Guess I'm getting used to it." He said. Scott's only reply was a middle finger.

"You got ten seconds to get up or I'm carrying you. We gotta go." Nate told him. He walked over and casually leaned up against a light post, looking first one direction and then the next. As Nate kept watch Scott tried to pull himself together. He was up on his feet in time, though he staggered a bit as he picked up the fifty pound world-shifter and closed the Samsonite container around it.

"Where to?" Nate asked. His eyes seemed to rove everywhere at once. Shakily Scott turned around to view his surroundings. He purposefully located their shift point to outside of the Leaky Cauldron, yet he couldn't see the damn place.

"Well shit." Scott cursed under his breath as he surveyed the endless string of buildings.

"What?" Nate asked, switching his gaze back to his brother.

"Well it appears we can't see magical buildings because we don't have magic ourselves. I should've remembered that."

"The fuck you say?" Nat shook his had and walked down the street cursing with every step. "What does the place look like?" He called.

"A run down pub," Scott yelled back. Nate was by his side in a heartbeat.

"Oh we just got turned around, the bar's over there," Nate said as he pointed at the dilapidated structure. Scott followed his arm and saw the pub. The building looked older than the other structures on the street, and it had a construction that looked to be out of the Victorian era. There was a very small sign hanging off a pole at the top of the door.

The Leaky Cauldron.

"How the hell did you find that?" Scott blurted out. He double checked to make sure his bags were in place before hefting the Samsonite container with their precious device.

"It's instinct. I know how to find bars. There's eight of them on this street. Though this one looks to be more of a hole in the wall," Nate told him as the pair made their way to the door. Scott calmly walked inside and stopped in the small atrium. He looked around at the pub tables and sighed as he saw only two robed patrons slumped over drinks. The far back wall was dominated by a massive bar that ran the length of the room. Tom the bartender, a rather skinny man stood cleaning glasses with a dirty rag.

Scott scooted aside and let Nate slip in behind him. Nate let out a soft whistle as he viewed the place.

"Now this is a bar I want to drunk in!" He said excitedly.

"Not now. We don't have the money anyway. Let's just get our enchantments and shift back for the rest of our gear. You can drink all you want when we're finished here." Scott told him. His eyes never left the bar. He finally glanced at Nate and did a double take.

The big man had the carrying straps of both the ALICE pack as well as the army duffel bag in his right hand. The metal pack frame for the ALICE was still attached to the bag, which was strange as Nate didn't keep the thing clipped onto his back. For that matter Nate looked like he was favoring his left side more than his right.

"What the fuck?" Scott asked, forgetting to keep his voice down. Nate spun to look at his brother. Scott put down the Samonite container and prodded Nate's left shoulder with hi hand. The wince and grimace from Nate's face was all Scott needed.

"You've been shot! When the fuck we're you going to tell me you were shot?"

Nate leaned away from his brother. Scott was scarier than all of DARPA when he was riled up.

"No the best place to have this conversation. It's an old wound.  
I wasn't entirely bulletproof when I got out of Russia. The shift aggravated it a bit. Let's just get this thing done." Nate whispered to him.

After realizing where he was Scott continued on to Tom's bar without a glance back. He knew they brought the attention of all the eyes in the pub. At that moment, Scot didn't care. As far as he was concerned his idiot brother was proving his stupidity again.

"Tom? You're name is Tom correct?" Scott asked as politely as he could. The skinny bartender looked and one brother and then the other. His eyes flicked warily towards the exits. Scott and Nate both caught the looked and internally approved.

"Yes it is," Tom said. His right hand disappeared below the rim of the bar.

"Sorry to bother you this fine morning. I'm Scott Craig, this is my brother Nate, we're both taking leave here in London." Scott smoothly lied. Nate cut in perfectly.

"Rammstein AFB in Germany is not the best place to go on duty." He said. Scott nearly didn't succeed at keeping a straight face.

"Right, anyway my daughter received a letter of invitation for some magic school called Hogwarts. Since we were both out on deployment my wife thought it safe to hold Sasha back until Nat and I could check things out. So we were told to come to this pub and buy school supplies from some shopping district call diagonal alley."

"Diagon Alley," Tom cut in. His ease and manner relaxed slowly until he seemed at ease in front of the two men. His eyes looked thoughtful as he walked around the bar and shook both men's hands.

"You're muggles I'm guessing?" He asked. Scott feigned ignorance.

"Muggles?

"Non-magical people. Your daughter, Sasha was it? Yes, she is the first muggleborn witch of your line. You should expect more of the same. Rather unusual you would wait this long in the year to come by," Tom explained. Some of his tense suspicion was back, but Scott easily redirected it.

"As I said, both Nate and I were out on deployment. We both serve in the American military. This is the first time we could both be out on leave. My wife is going to re-enroll Sasha for next year."

Tom nodded and smiled broadly. He gestured to the rest of the pub. All the stares were back to drinks, and no one seemed to pay them any mind. In this world no one cared about muggles.

"Well then welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. This is your entrance and exit for Diagon Alley. If you will follow me," Tom led them to the very back where he tapped an easy combination with his wand on the back wall. Nate and Scott memorized the order of the bricks. They thanked Tom several times before facing the new street.

"This is like Disney world, only more real." Nate breathed. Scott could only nod as he looked at the medieval cobblestone pathways and the small but eccentric stores. Few people were shopping at this time of day, but Scott could see the traffic would pick up soon.

"Since when have you been to Disney World?" Scott asked. He slowly made the way towards the back of the Alley, where he knew the goblin bank resided.

"Lots of young high school girls at Disney World," Nate explained. He had a nasty grin on his face. Scott shook his head.

"By the way, whose Sasha?" Nate asked. Scott laughed.

"Name I gave my FAL,"Scott told him. His mind was already thinking about the big black assault rifle he left in his own universe.

Gringotts bank was a massive white limestone structure that looked like it was melded with the Earth at it's foundations. The walls were smooth and shear, stretching high to overlook most of the alley. Easily, it was the tallest structure on the street. There were four ornate limestone columns leading up to the main doorway. The dark brown wood doors clashed sharply with the white walls of the bank.

"Impressive," Scott said to himself. He felt Nate nod next to him. They approached the doors and immediately noticed the two guards standing smartly at attention. This was their first ugly look at a non human race. The goblins were about four feet tall a piece, with faces that bore a strong resemblance to a pig's head. Their arms and bodies were covered in a thick layer of muscles. They wore a thick metal armor on their chests and carried wickedly sharp spears.

The two goblin guards gave Scott and Nate the same glance over. The four warriors summed themselves up and there were slight nods all around. Though the goblins looked a bit more fearsome in their smiles. Nate and Scott marched past and pushed open the doors.

The inside of the bank surprised the both of them. The goblins seemed to take after the muggle way of efficiency. There was a long line of teller boots with several desks and chairs laid out for private business transactions. The only difference in the Goblin bank over the muggle one was a cash a currency transaction booth along the back wall. That and there were train cars waiting on a track that disappeared into the bowels of the bank, what Scott knew to be the deep vault tunnels. Scott led Nate over to the currency transaction booth.

"Yes sirs, how may I help you?" The goblin teller grated out. The voice was bored, yet still had a hard edge to it. Scott smiled thinly.

"What's the exchange rate for dollars into galleons?" He asked.

"Ten to one." Scott promptly slid over five thousand in cash. What happened next impressed him. The goblin snatched up the money, and in a span of a minute had it all counted and sorted into different bill stacks. The teller picked up a silver pouch, counted five hundred gold coins into it and handed the pouch over. Scott knew immediately the pouch had been enchanted for weightlessness, and the size was too small for the amount inside. He gave the pouch to Nate for safe keeping. Their eyes met briefly, and Nate seemed to notice the same thing.

"What is your exchange rate for unique currencies?" Scott then asked the teller in a lower tone. The goblin's eyes never changed though his eyebrow rose a fraction.

"Unique?" The goblin rasped. Scott detected an intrigued quality to the voice. He nodded and fished out his ten rough cut diamonds.

"Black market?" Scott asked as he handed over the diamonds. The goblin did not conceal his surprise. He scrutinized the stones in his hand, then turned his gaze on the brothers. They held him steady and did not flinch. This was a test, it was obvious enough.

A small jewelers magnifying glass came out from under the desk. The teller spent several minutes looking at each diamond. He made not a single sound nor any gestures to give away his contemplation. Scott and Nate waited patiently. Finally the goblin set the last diamond on the counter.

"One hundred galleons per stone," The goblin said quietly. Scott suspected immediately it was a low ball figure. He worked up the amount in his head before nodding to the goblin.

The creature looked at him in surprise for not demanding more. He swiftly raked the diamonds out of sight and handed over another pouch loaded with a thousand galleons.

"Will that be all sirs?" The goblin asked, respect now under toning his voice. Scott nodded.

"Yes, I noticed these money pouches are weightless. They also seem to hold more than normal. Is there a vendor in this Alley who can provide quality enchantments like these on our bags? We are more than willing to offer top dol-galleon for their services." Scott explained.

The goblin was silent for a very long time. His eyes flicked from Scott to Nate and then back to Scott again. Finally he spoke.

"Zane's shop in Knockturn Alley. Ask the Spider hag for Zane. She'll point you the way."

"Thank you." Scott said politely. He and Nate exited the bank. The goblin teller continued to watched them as they left.

**BTW For any service members or like family reading this fic. I truly admire and deeply respect your service to our country. So that little snip at Rammstein AFB was for the story alone, not for any personal ideas. If you hadn't figured it out by now, I am very pro military. The only reason I did not join myself was I love civilian life a bit too much.**

**Reviews fuel the soul.**


	5. Chapter Five: Knockturn Alley

**I just want to state this early on. The story is going to center primarily around where Scott leads them. Scott is the smarter of the two brothers. Nate is very intelligent but likes to have more fun. He is not much of a reader and a bit of a hard liner in his personality. To classify them: Nate is the better warrior with a bright mind, Scott is the better thinker with good fighting experience. There will be Nate centered stories in the future, but have no doubt Scott leads the pair.**

Chapter Five: Knockturn Alley

Knockturn Alley was far worse than the dark descriptions Scott remembered from the books. The entrance to the evil street was hidden yet in plain sight. A dirty archway with crooked lettering told the wandering pair exactly where they needed to go. Scott's first step into the entrance, took hm out of the white and clean streets of Diagon into a murky and dingy realm. An oppressive weight shifted onto the brother's shoulders as they made their way towards the different shops.

Dozens of salesmen and beggars lined the street, each with their own interest in Scott's coin purse. The products for sale were also far darker in appearance than their cousins in Diagon. Here you could by flesh eating potions, poison daggers, magical opiates, books of the dark arts, harvested human organs and even whores, all from the street's myriad shops and stalls. Scott almost felt at home in Knockturn, if it wasn't for the grotesque and mutated forms of the hags, wizards, and other unidentifiable creatures that had taken up residence. The atmosphere was much like a middle eastern black market bazaar or weapons dealership. Nate seemed to be of the same mind.

"This reminds me of The Rhino back home," Nate said loudly. Scott winced and glanced around. The street up till that point had been rather quiet.

"Rhino?" Scott asked, his voice low and hoping the other brother would take the hint. Nate did but ignored it instead.

"Yeah, it's a titty bar outside of Houston. Cagey place, but the women are good looking and the beer's cheap. You could find anything out behind it in a back alley. There were so many bad dudes back there the cops wouldn't raid the place without a SWAT team and national guard backup." Nate's echoing voice petered off to silence in the alley.

Scott groaned internally as he saw fifty pairs of eyes stare back at them.

"Oh sorry, did you want me to be discreet?" Nate asked, a sardonic grin to his face. Scott ignored him and instead focused on a particular hag far to the left corner of the Alley. Her face was pockmarked with scars and moles, and almost well hidden beneath gray stringy hair. The black cloak, tattered yet serviceable did well to hide her amongst the rest of Knockturn's vagabonds.

The two foot spider hat on her head made her stick out painfully.

"There's our girl," Scott said nodding in the Spider Hag's direction. Nate gave a small shrug and the two made their way over. The Spider Hag watched them approach, a sinister smile ever widening on her ugly face.

Scott opened his mouth to speak but the Hag cut him off.

"You're looking for Zane's?" She said. Her voice rasped out yet held a firm undertone. Scott instantly tensed and reevaluated her for threats. He felt more than saw Nate do the same.

"That's right," Nate boomed. The Spider Hag nodded once and moved aside. Behind her was a tiny door in the wall of the Alley, maybe a foot tall. The Spider Hag pulled a short wand from within her tattered cloak. Unnoticed Both Scott and Nate gripped their sidearms tightly. The Spider Hag tapped the small door three times with her wand and muttered a few words under her breath.

Both brother's took a startled step back as the door quickly expanded to it's original size. They glanced at each other and a silent message passed between them. The Spider Hag kept her wand out and motioned that they go inside.

"Zane's is before you. Go quickly, the door is not open to Knockturn, only customers." The Spider Hag rasped at them. Both brothers nodded and Nate stepped through first, hand on his pistol the whole way. Scott waited a beat, heard a comforting whistle, and followed through.

The inside of the shop was … interesting. That was the best way Scott could describe it. A large counter separated the entrance from the rest of the store. Behind the counter were tall rows of odd trinkets, devices, and books. The store was well lit, but the lighting seemed to sprout from the ceiling with no discernible point of origin.

Nate stood to the left side of the shop, is empty ALICE pack lay on the floor beside him. After scanning the shop for threats, he had unpacked the large military duffel from inside of the ALICE. Scott proceeded to do the same with his own packs.

"More humans," A gruff voice said. Both Scott and Nate's gaze snapped to the middle of the counter where and short slim goblin sat dangling his feet off the edge. Scott picked out at least two dagger sheaths on the goblin's belt. He looked to be palming something else in his right hand.

"Seen more humans this month than I wanna see in the next thirty years. Who sent ye? The Goblin asked.

"Bank teller at Gringotts. Said you could fill a special order for us." Scott told him sticking to the truth. The goblin snorted and shook his pig face.

"Sharpclaw sent ye to me then? Well, maybe I can assist. But don't expect me to happy about it. I'm Zane, what do ye want?" The goblin's voice and words were hostile, yet his posture was smooth and relaxed. Scott figured the goblin almost wanted them to start trouble.

"We need these four bags enchanted. They need to be bottomless, or as close to it as you can get. We want them weightless as well, with an organizational charm that will allow us to pull out what we need without digging too much." Scott laid it out.

"That's all?" The goblin asked. Scott however got the distinct feeling the goblin was mildly impressed.

"If you're work is good and meets our expectations, we'll have a lot more."

Zane stared at them for a long moment.

"You're not wizards are you?" He asked. Scott shook his head. "Muggles then? Hah! No wizard would ever ask for a bottomless bag. Those arrogant bastard know nothing more than their multi-compartment trunks. TRUNKS! Big bulky, and hard to retrieve what you want. Yet the bankers hand out weightless bags and them wizards don't think to try it themselves. Hah!"

"You can do it then?" Scott asked, slightly surprised at the outburst.

"Not for free," Zane snapped. "Four hundred for the trouble." Scott snorted.

"One fifty." His voice was firm and his stance tense as if he was ready for a fight. Zane grunted out a laugh. He planted his feet on top of the counter and stood tall. His head would barely brush Nate's chest.

"Now it's four twenty five, ye sorry excuse for life." Zane snarled.

"One seventy five." Scott spat at him. His Glock came halfway out of its holster.

"Five hundred then, fer threatening me!" A dagger slipped into the Goblin's hand.

"Two fifty or I splatter your brains over this counter and pillage your store!" Scott's Glock was now leveled at the goblin's head. Nate had him covered with his own .45. The stand off lasted for a long minute. Zane slipped his daggers away and let out a short chuckle. He eased himself down to a sitting position again and dangled his legs off of the counter. Ever so slowly, Scott and Nate holstered their sidearms.

"Ye haggle like a goblin. Two hundred it is. Hand me the bags and I'll have the work completed by the end of the day." Zane held out a small yet strong hand.

"I thought we settled on two fifty?" Scott asked. He made no move to hand the bags over. Zane gave him a look of disgust, his first.

"What do you take me for? A thief? Ye haggle me like my own brother, treat me with respect and expect me to skin ye? Insulting!"

Scott grinned at him. The two brother's handed over their bags and Zane disappeared into his shop. With time to spare, the men made their way out. With a polite nod to the ugly Spider Hag then left Knockturn for cleaner surrounds.

Once in Diagon, Scott led the way through the stores. The two brother's immediately realized that a galleon went a long way in the wizarding world. With their twelve fifty left over they could buy nearly anything in the alley. The first stop on their shopping leg was the Quidditch Supply store. Once there, for a hundred and fifty galleons a pop, Nate and Scott bought themselves matching Firebolt racing brooms. The storekeeper looked to be overwhelmed at the double purchase, and at the pile of gold on his counter.

The next shop was Madam Malkins where Scott inquired about armored suits and clothing that carried magical enchantments. Malkin presented them with dragon hide armor, crafted from leftover scales from a recently harvested Norwegian Ridgeback. The armor was fashioned much like muggle body armor, yet it was lighter and more form fitting. The armor provided protection against moderate magical attacks, and was nearly impervious to physical strikes. Scott wondered if it could take a .45 slug and bounce back but he didn't voice these questions to the shop owner. Such a thing would bring a little too much attention to their backs.

Each suit of armor protected their torso, upper and lower arms, and upper thighs. The joints were protected with dragon skin which was strong but far weaker than the scales. The skin allowed for easy mobility in the suits. Both Nate mentioned to Scott, he thought they could get their combat vests and web gear over the armor and not appear too bulky. Sadly, each suit came out to be ten thousand galleons in price. One of the few items either brother could purchase in Diagon.

The final shop on Scott's mental list was the local apothecary. Here he found several capped potions for very reasonable prices. For just ten galleons a piece, they could purchase potions that restored strength and endurance, grew bones, healed minor bruises and moderate lacerations, increase speed, hardened their skin to punishment, and numbed pain. The prices were directly effected by the rarity of potions ingredients.

Scott and Nate filled their pockets with promises to return later. They reduced their money stock to just under five hundred galleons, and had much to store away when they would return to Zane. Not having much more to accomplish with their limited funds, the two went back to the Leaky Cauldron and ordered a dinner. Nate got sidetracked by the massive building with the WWW across the front. A dozen different fireworks seemed to be spewing from the sides with a drape over the door that read: "Coming Soon". Scott immediately yanked Nate away, recognizing the store for what it was.

"We can use those nut jobs later, not now." He told his brother. Nate, not really understanding allowed himself to be led away. When the two were settled in the wizarding pub, Tom brought them each a platter of hot chicken stew, warm soft bread, and bottles of butterbeer. One sip of the rich sweet brew, and Scott knew exactly what would give him diabetes.

Over dinner they discussed their future plans.

"When are we going to fuck things up?" Nate asked around a mouthful of stew. He wiped grease off his mouth with a junk of bread.

"Soon. There are a few things we need to get first. Those suits of dragon hide armor will do us nicely." Scott explained.

"We need more gold for that. I don't plan on getting a job or robbing a bank. Not much back at the safe house except our weapons and gear." Nate said. Scott nodded.

"I have a plan of where we can get more funds, but a few things have to happen first. We need our modified packs. After that we shift over to home and load up all the weapons, ammo, food, and equipment in the safe house. We shift back here and then check out Sharpclaw at the bank. I have a few questions to ask him. Then we can blow some stuff up and have a bit of fun." Scott laid out all of his ideas for their current universe.

"Just a bit of fun?" Nate asked. His disappointment was easy to pick up. Scott quickly reassured him.

"At first. Remember Darth Vader? We need to build ourselves up. We need that armor, and those bags. Maybe a few more things to keep us on top. Then we need to fill those bags with all the ammo and weapons we can find in this world."

"From what I see, the tech is outdated." Nate grumbled.

"Only by a few years. Besides ammunition hasn't changed much in the last twenty years. You can still make those motherfuckers of yours right?" Scott asked. Nate took a moment to think about his supply at the safe house. He considered what tools he had on hand before giving his brother a hesitant nod.

"What do you need?" Scott picked up on Nate's hesitation.

"A couple tools like a press, and access to phosphorous and impact explosives. I have about a thousand rounds completed back home, with the materials to make five hundred more. Long as I get the right tools I should be okay."

They took their time, enjoying the meal and laying out a lot of future plans for the HP universe. Scott spent much of their time filling in his brother on the current book and story line of which they inhabited. After paying a measly galleon and a half for their meal, the Craig brothers made their way back through Diagon to Knockturn.

After a polite nod a request of the Spider Hag, Scott and Nate found their modified duffels and packs resting on the counter. Zane's pig head popped up from behind the counter and broke out into a wide grin.

"What have we got?" Scott asked immediately.

"Blunt humans to boot! I'm hating ye less and less. Yer enchantments we're easy to apply. I increased the internal size by a factor of three. Ye can slide in anything that'll fit into the opening, and them packs won't weigh a ton. If the size limit inside the packs are full, total weight should equalize under twenty five pounds."

Scott let out a soft whistle. That last bit sounded good to them. Scott routinely carried a sixty five pound assault pack on missions. Nate's loads were usually double that when he went on deployment. Twenty-five pounds was featherlight in comparison. And a triple space factor meant seventy-two hundred cubic feet of space, far exceeding Scott's low ball guess of twenty-four hundred.

"I'm not finished yet!" Zane cackled as he took in their impressed stares. The little goblin hopped up onto the counter and picked up one of the duffel bags. He stuck his arm in the opening, and a soft white light emanated from within and lit up his face.

"Display contents," Zane said. He tilted the bag so both brothers could have a look. A tan, tattered scroll was suspended just inside of the bag's opening. The scroll had a list of objects within by name. Zane touched a short finger to one of the names on the list and reached into the bag. He pulled out a bright red apple and started munching.

"Ye can access this and say: loading before giving the name of the object. The enchantment will record that into the list and automatically count the number of objects. To retrieve simply select the item from the list, reach into the bag, and grab what ye want. All of this will react to yer voice as well in case ye need it."

Scott and Nate looked over their packs, both extremely impressed with the work. Scott immediately unloaded the Samsonite case containing the world-shifter, the exact one he'd been lugging around with him all day long. The brothers emptied the results of their shopping spree into the backs, and hefted the light packs. Both wore large grins on their faces when they were finished.

"Two fifty as we agreed," Scott said as he deposited the number onto the counter. Zane glared at him and pulled off a small chunk of coins to give back. He stopped the goblin by dumping the rest of his coins on to the counter, save a few.

"Two fifty for excellent services. The rest is for some other stuff we need your help with."

Zane gave each man a long calculating look. He swiftly carved out two hundred galleons and deposited the money under his counter. He did not touch the other coins.

"I am just a simple enchanter, what could I do for ye?" Zane asked. Scott barked a harsh laugh.

"Getting to this shop ain't simple. Which makes me think you're more of a black market dealer. There are some questionable items we need, and you can possibly get them for us. We'll pay top galleon for the work. Extra if you're fast." Scott explained. He handed over a list he had scrawled out over dinner.

Zane snatched the list from him an quickly glanced over it.

"You don't have the gold to pay for these items." Zane muttered immediately.

"I know, but we can get you the gold in the next few days. We'll pay double if need be."

"And where would you, a muggle, find the gold for this," Zane held up the list.

"Put a little more faith in us. We'll get it done." Scott told him. He gestured to Nate and the two men left the store, heads held high, and pockets almost empty.

"You better be right about this," Nate said to Scott. The other brother grinned slightly.

"Lets find a quiet place and shift back to home. We need to get the rest of our stuff."

The brother's found their spot in a cross street of Diagon alley, in between two shops. The little hole was small, but perfect for their needs. As Scott retrieved the world-shifter from his pack, Nate stood watch and blocked the looks of inquisitive eyes. Scott gritted his teeth and minimized the transportation radius to include the two of them and nothing more. His thumb hesitated briefly over the yellow button before he gave it a press.

Pain, agony, torment, all packed together in the most beautiful of searing lights. Then it was over and strength pooled into Scott's muscles. He staggered to his feet and lurched over groaning all the while. Nate gave him a sympathetic eye from across the room.

* * *

"It get's easier I promise. That last one was a short shock before it was over for me. Third jump won't be as bad." He said. Scott nodded and sucked in a breath of air. He glanced around and smiled slightly at the surroundings. They were back in the safe house just like before. Everything looked to be as they left it.

"The gear works." Nate told him. Scott glanced over to see Nate lovingly slide his REPR sniper rifle into his ALICE pack. Scott watched mesmerized as the fifty inch long rifle system slid easily into the forty inch tall back pack with ease.

"Good, least we know this fairytale is real." Scott said. He unlimbered his own pack and began organizing his gear. He stuffed his FAL battle rifle with spare magazines and cleaning kits into the pack and whistled appreciatively at the ability. After the rifle came a box of spare thirty and twenty round magazines followed closely by all the remaining 7.62 ammo in the safe house. Beside him Nate, smiling all the way, loaded up their MRE supply.

The two brothers took everything in sight. All the medical supplies, spare food, water, cots, radios, flashlights, blankets, pillows, and assorted accessories went into the bags. The non essentials went into the duffel bags for mass storage while all the food, weapons, ammo, medical supplies, and communications gear went into the ALICE packs.

"Better not expect to come back to this place. If Barker survived you can bet your ass he'll figure out a way to track this thing." Nate told Scott as they took in the bare shelves and empty remains of the safe house. Scott pinned his brother with a questioning gaze.

"DARPA is scary shit. If Barker survived that nuke, then he's probably doing exactly what we are: gathering weapons and tech. He's smart enough to figure out a way to detect whatever energy signature this world-shifter has. Probably working on that right now." Nate elaborated.

"Alright, that might throw a wrench into our plans for this universe." Scott told him. He set up the world-shifter once again and took a deep breath before mashing his thumb down on the button.


	6. Chapter Six: The Treasure Under Hogwarts

**I don't think my grammar is to good in this chapter. Just fix things as you go along. This is the longest chapter so far, and the next will probably be even longer. I am taking a lot of liberties with this universe. Most fanfic writers do, but I was really frustrated with JK Rowling for not describing the industry of diagon and of the wizarding world in general. So I created a few things here or there.  
**

** Reviews help. **

Chapter Six Pt 1: Treasure Under Hogwarts

Back at the Gringotts bank, the Craig Brothers asked a couple more questions of Sharpclaw. Particularly dealing with prices of rare potions ingredients. Sharpclaw emphasized that Gringotts was willing to purchase any rare products at slightly under market price. They would pay double for items that the goblins could use to further control the wizarding economy.

They left Sharpclaw with a simple: don't go anywhere, we'll be back. The brothers left Sharpclaw with a cautious and calculating expression. They barely made it back into Diagon before the doors of the mighty bank closed for the evening. Using a portion of their remaining galleons, the two stocked up on empty boxes and potion vials. They purchased two portkeys, one to take them to the edge of Hogsmeade, the other to bring them back.

For Scott, portkey travel was a lot like traveling the world-shifter.

Except instead of a terrible pain, it felt like your body was squeezed through a small tube at the speed of light, and roughly deposited on the other side. As the swirling blue light faded away both Scott and Nate stared up at the night sky. Neither of them felt like rising, but Nate shook off the butterflies in his stomach, and the tingling that made his feet twitch. He was up first and able to lend a hand to his brother. The two surveyed the town for a moment. Hogsmeade looked a lot like small German towns during Christmas. Cobblestone streets with eighteenth century architecture, gas lighting and a hazy, comfy, atmosphere. Three pubs stood along the main street and all of them glowed brightly in the dusk of the waning day. Merry music and raucous laughter was the only artificial sound that permeated the small town.

"We shouldn't be able to see any of this," Scott muttered under his breath. They slowly walked up the street, keeping tight hold of their packs and duffel bags.

"How so?" Nate asked. His eyes scanned the small alleys and streets they passed.

"We aren't magical. We're what they call muggles. We should not be able to see magical things. This whole town should just disappear before our eyes. Hell, we wouldn't be able to see Hogwarts for that matter either." Scott explained. They were slowly reaching the outskirts of the town.

"We're from another universe," Nate told him. The finality in his words resonated with Scott.

"You think that world-shifter changed us? Mae it so we could see magic?" He asked.

"I think we're from another universe. Don't question it. Besides we got a job to do,"

They reached the edge of town and gazed upon a brilliantly lit castle. Hogwarts was magnificent in the early evening, with a dozen spiraling towers and high walls covering the primary keep. A thousand yards of rich green grass separated hogsmeade from hogwarts, with a large lake inside the perimeter. The tall trees of the Forbidden Forest stood on the west side of the castle and formed a slight perimeter around the grounds. This was the brother's primary target.

The two hustled from the Hogwarts gates and ghosted to the treeline, hiding just out of view of the castle. They waited quietly in the darkness, listening to the bugs around them and smelling the air. Once they were sure they were alone the two brothers broke into their gear. The clothing of the night was black from head to toe, with a black assault vest going over their ripstop BDUs.

They packed light. Pistols with spare magazines only. This was a school of children after all. They took their modified ALICE packs, and made sure their assault vests were full of non-lethal items for distraction and possibly interdiction. Neither man wanted to kill or hurt anyone at the school, but neither man wanted to get caught either.

When they were finally ready they went over their plan one last time.

"The portraits will give us away immediately. The moment we're in the atrium they'll probably warn that bitch in there of where we are. So we'll have to run. All I know is that the target is located under the sink of the second floor girls bathroom, so when you get to the second floor, stay on it. We'll split up to cover more ground." Scott told Nate.

"What about patrols? You told me earlier the kids patrol the halls at night? What do we do with them?" Nate asked, a dubious expression on his face. Scott shrugged.

"Taze them, knock them out, and tie them up. All I can advise for now."

The Craig brothers silently crossed the open grassy field, each moving at a fast crouch. The partial clouds of the sky kept the bathing moonlight dim, lengthening the shadows. Nate kept nervously glancing at the windows of the castle, expecting a spotter to mark them out in the open. Surprisingly they reached the great doors to the main hall undiscovered. Nate shook his head in disgust over the lax security.

Scott reached into his pack and produced a small lock pick kit. Nate watched his brother work for a moment. He grunted, grabbed the handle, and opened the massive door a crack with a sharp pull. Scott stared at the crack for a few seconds. He glanced back at Nate.

"If their not watching the grounds, what makes you think the door is locked?" Nate whispered to him, a smirk forming on his lips. Scott shook his head and as soft as possible levered open the door so they could both slip in.

The atrium of Hogwarts was a grand hall whose ceiling towered over their heads a good thirty feet. A wide staircase greeted their front, and seemed to forever rise into the ceiling. Two doors greeted their right and left, and Scott knew the one on the right led directly tot he great hall. Both men took the staircase at a run and split up in opposite directions at the second floor.

The long halls were a mix match of black and green marble with white limestone for the floors. Paintings of every shape and size dotted the walls, with the occasional suit of armor, and display rack of ancient tomes or weapons. IT was all the very image of a medieval castle, and for the Craig brothers, very confusing. Scott checked each door he came across, slowing his search for the hundreds of entrances to the walls. Twice he had to duck behind a tapestry or suit of armor at the sound of footsteps ahead or behind him. He heard voices, light and high pitched, as if from children. But the ominous walls seemed to bounce these sounds across the castle. Their location could not be pin pointed.

Scott cursed silently as he saw a dim light at the head of the hallway. He ducked into the entrance way of a classroom and held as still as possible. The light brightened and was accompanied by the soft fall of feet. The mercenary's keen ears caught the squeaking of a lamp and labored breathing of an elderly searcher. He glanced at the portraits, all sleeping peacefully. He didn't want to wake them up with a sudden conflict. The light was very close now, almost around the corner.

"Found it!" The hash of the radio cut through the darkness, forcing a soft sigh out of Scott's mouth. His right hand clamped over the cut off switch, while his left fished out a black box from his BDUs. The light had stopped and there was a very loud shuffle of feet.

"Whose there?" The gruff voice shook the paintings, making a few figures open their sleepy eyes.

"If you don't show yerself now, when I catch you I'll beat yer bottom raw. Dumbledore be damned!"

Scott struck. He jumped out from the passageway and took in the caretakers appearance at a glance. Filthy rags hung over a skinny frame, face half covered by gray and greasy hair. Filch held a yellow oil lantern high and close to his face. Scott's appearance startled the old man, and froze him for a second. That was all the time Scott needed.

One step brought him into Filch's personal space, where he sunk a gloved fist deep into the older man's stomach. The lantern hit the floor with a crash and the illuminated hallway was drenched in darkness. Filch gasped and folded over Scott's right arm. The mercenary raised his left and lightly activated his stungun at the base of Filch's neck. The snapping of the electrical charge lasted three seconds, but Filch's body went limp.

Scott lowered Filch to the floor and holstered his stungun.

"And who might you be?"

The voice startled Scott and sent him spinning around, crouched low in a defensive stance. He found a half dozen pairs of eyes staring back at him. The portraits seemed to finally be awake. Scott grabbed for his radio and set off at a brisk jog back the way he had come.

"Point me the way, brother." He said softly. Nate relayed the instructions. "Alright, plant the C4 and blow it. I just got made. I'll catch you down the tunnel. We got to move fast."

Scott found Nate's hallway and accelerated to a sprint. A few moments into the run he felt the walls and floor vibrate with a dull thump. The explosion was terribly loud, but it lit up the bathroom beautifully. The fire extinguished under a rolling cloud of pulverized marble and limestone dust. Scott hit the bathroom and stood grinning at the damage. The second floor bathroom, home of the entrance to the Chamber of Secrets was completely destroyed. The sinks and statues were gone, replaced by a gaping maw a good two meters in diameter. Individual stalls were collapsed and pushed against the walls. Every ruptured faucet seemed to have cut loose, releasing an endless torrent of water. It was beautiful.

Scott focused on two ropes fashioned to pipes where the stalls used to be. He snatched one up and jumped into the hole in the floor. Lightly gripping the rope for stability, Scot flew down the drainpipe. His fun ride ended with a jarring crash on a pile of rotting flesh and bones.

"Should've used the rope!" Scott looked up and saw Nate at the end of the vast chamber, an LED flashlight providing the only illumination.

"Shit that hurt! Don't got the time. Maybe five minutes tops before they find us. You get into the chamber yet? Did you find the snake?" Scott levered himself up and rolled his shoulders a bit. He caught up to Nate to find him gesturing towards the Chamber door.

"Found it!" They walked in to find the carcass of a very dead eighty foot long basilisk. Scott let out a long low whistle.

"Book said a twelve year old kid killed the thing with a sword and a gold bird. Let's check out it's mouth."

Rigor mortise had long set in, requiring them to use entrenching shovels from their packs to lever open the jaw. Scott used a fighting knife to nick at the bottom of one of the hundreds of long teeth within the massive snake's mouth. He pulled several potion vials out of his bag and held one up to the nicked fang. Scott gave the stiff tooth a hard squeeze and whistled again as a trickle of black viscous liquid poured out and into the vial.

"Black gold, just like oil! Fill em up!" Scott crowed to his brother who was mimicking his movements. They moved from fang to fang, using gravity to do most of the work on the upper jaw. The front fifteen teen had copious quantities of the venom within, while a token trickle fell from the back teeth. They both came to the same conclusion, that the venom sacks were located in the upper mouth just under the snout.

Six minutes later they had a dozen full vials. Scott tried to slice off large segments of the snake's skin, but he growled in frustration as the Basilisk hide dulled the knife blade. He would need a diamond saw to hack into such a hide.

"Forget the skin. Try to cut out some of those fangs. Take them intact if you can," Scott said to Nate. He pulled out a smaller knife from his combat boot. This one had a razor sharp edge. "I'll start working on the eyes,"

Another minute later both men froze in place. Their heads swiveled as one down the hall towards the chamber door. They listened and heard it again, the soft patter of feet and moaning of whispered voices. The brothers shared a look.

"Pack it up, I'll buy you time," Nate whispered first. Scott eased over the top of the snake's snout and loaded up the potion vials and harvested fangs. Nate took off at a jog reaching the chamber door in moments. He unclipped a 10oz canister of OC pepper spray from his vest and stuck the nozzel through the doorway releasing the full contents in one arcing wave. He ducked back and palmed his only two M84 stun grenades. He waited patiently listening to the sounds inside of the atrium.

Someone started coughing. That voice was followed by six different others. A moaning mass of unfortunates just stumbled into Nate's cloud of mace.

"Bloody hell, what is this stuff!"

"_Lumos_, can't see a damn thing."

Nate counted to three then popped the rings off his grenades and hurled them both inside the atrium. He took off back towards Scott, his mouth open and eyes closed. Three seconds later the double BANG thudded through his chest and rang in his ears. He shook his head to clear the jumble and skidded to a stop next to Scott. The moaning mass of wizards in the atrium were now screaming either in fear or in pain.

"All set?" Nate asked. Scott handed him an ALICE pack, shrugged on his own. He glanced back down the hall and shook his head.

"Wizards! Foolish ignorant bastards," Scott held out the portkey, and a second later the two were whisked away. An incredibly easy escape.

The portkey deposited them roughly on the outside of Hogwarts's wards. They trekked to the edge of the forest and rolled out a pair of bivouac sacks. Neither man built a fire, nor did they let out any light. The Alice packs went into the sacks and they wrapped up in military ponchos to stay warm. Sleeping outside under the stars was a given in any military profession. Knowing how to live hard was instinctual. As he drifted off to sleep, Nate remembered his last few weeks of Force Recon training. It was a thirty six hour wait for their target to show in the middle of a Louisiana swamp. After taking the shot and scoring high for their test, Nate and his spotter huffed it fifteen kilometers to the safe point, dodging Opfor patrols and scary black clad drill instructors. They made it on no sleep and very little time, muddy and drenched to the bone. That evening Nate sacked out on the concrete floor of the barracks and slept like a baby without a pillow. At the time it was the most comfortable bed he had ever felt.

* * *

Nate and Scott were up slightly after dawn. No denizens of the forest approached their small camp, possibly due to their proximity to the outer wards of Hogsmeade. There was also a good chance the creatures of the forest had seen the few claymore mines Nate had set up for camp security. At nine o'cock, they portkeyed into Diagon, right outside the steps of Gringotts bank. The brothers watched mesmerized as their portkeys burned up in their hands, leaving them with no further means of transportation. It didn't matter they were exactly where they needed to be.

Shaprclaw stared at them the moment they walked inside. The little goblin never even so much as glanced away as the bothers walked up to his desk. Scott keyed his modified pack and set down a single vial of basilisk venom on Sharpclaw's desk. He pushed it forward.

"Need a price quote on this stuff." Scott said. Sharpclaw snatched up the vial and uncorked the lid risking a smell. Scott watched in satisfaction as the goblin's eyes widened and his small jaw fell open. Sharpclaw regained his composure immediately.

"Please wait here while I verify the contents," Sharpclaw said. He hopped off his chair and waddled away. Scott smiled slightly and leaned on the desk. Nate stood as still as a stature but a smirk was slowly finding a way on his face.

Sharpclaw was back several minutes later, but he brought two other goblins in tow. Scott glanced around and saw several of the goblins in the bank staring at the pair. The sudden attention made him very uncomfortable.

"Contents have been verified. At current market price, 4oz of liquid basilisk venom sells for twenty five hundred galleons. Gringotts is willing to offer an even two thousand." Sharpclaw said. Scott looked at Nate and a silent agreement sped between them. He slowly fished out the other eleven vials and placed them one by one on the desk in a nice little line. The three goblins stared at the small fortune for a long moment. Sharpclaw scooped up the elven vials and carefully handed them over to his associates.

"We will of course verify their contents before payment. Black ink is not a proper substitute." Sharpclaw said.

"People'd be stupid enough to try something like that?" Nate rumbled behind Scott. Sharpclaw grinned evilly at them, revealing several rows of sharp teeth.

"You would be surprised, sir at a wizard's arrogance. Mere goblins must be below their level of intelligence." Sharpclaw explained.

"We have other ingredients for you." Scott broke in. He pulled out one of the four basilisk fangs they liberated. He set the sixteen inch long tooth on the desk.

"Where did you get this?" Sharpclaw asked. He made no move to touch the fang despite its proximity.

"You don't need to know that. Suffice it to say we liberated it for you." Scott told him.

"Who are you? Who do you represent?" Sharpclaw's eyes were now narrow slits. His upper lip was curled back in a snarl.

"We're mercenaries. We work for whoever pays the most. And right now we represent ourselves. That's all you need to know. You want to make some gold? Give use a fair price and hold on the questions. If not we'll take our business elsewhere." Scott said.

It was a bluff and all of them knew it. Selling such valuable ingredients piecemeal would deplete the circulating gold in diagon. They might get full price for a few vials from one shop, but then lose on a sale in the next. The only way to make money and do so consistently is if they sold to the card holders.

His point had been accepted, apparently. Sharpclaw slowly eased the fang over to his side of the desk. When his helpers returned he passed on the fang to be checked as well. Scott gave them the other three in his pack to expedite the process.

"That is twenty four thousand galleons for twelve vials of basilisk venom. If the fangs check out, as I'm sure they will, we can offer three thousand galleons each." Sharpclaw said.

Scott slowly shook his head at the offer. "Fangs make good wand components. Give me fifteen hundred for each or I'm off to Olivanders." Scott said.

The fangs checked out and Sharpclaw agreed to the sum for the fangs. Scott had a sinking feeling that he and Nate just got skinned badly, however they had more than enough gold to get the job done. The brothers left Gringotts with their full money bags and returned to Zane's only this time the Spider Hag was no where to be found. The door still opened for them however, and the brothers let themselves into Zane's store.

The short goblin was nowhere to be seen, even after Nate called loudly for his presence. They resolved to wait patiently in front of the desk. They didn't wait long. A sharp crack and a clattering sound of pots and pans on the floor, filled the small shop. Nate and Scott shot up from their seats, hands clasping pistols. They watched as Zane stumbled out from one of the back isles of junk, cursing to himself and dusting off his clothes. He hopped up to the top of the desk and shot a bleary eye at the two men.

"What're ye fer?" He asked. Zane plopped down on top of his desk and rubbed his fore head with his hand.

"We're here for the list. We have enough to pay for everything on it." Scott answered. Zane let out a snort and hopped off the desk top disappearing back into the store. There was more sounds of the goblin rooting around inside. He appeared again and dropped two parcels on the desk.

"Two invisibility cloaks, five thousand a piece," Zane barked at them. He disappeared again. Scott slid the cloak out of the parcel and tried it on. He swirled the fabric over his shoulders and tried to get the rest around his pack. He glanced up at Nate.

"How do I look?" Scott asked with a grin. Nate's shocked expression told him immediately the cloak was working.

"You don't." Nate answered after overcoming his shock. The bigger brother slipped the parcel off his desk and into the pack. Scott pulled the cowl of the cloak over his head. He fastened the cloak shut at the front and tested his mobility.

"Can you see my legs?" He asked. Nate, eyes roving over the space he _knew_ Scott existed, finally glanced down.

"I can see your boots. The cloak might be hung up on your pack. Might be the thing will cover you without it." Nate told him.

"That's about what I figured." Scott said as he threw off the cloak and folded it up nicely. He packed it away fro safe keeping. Zane appeared again and left two small boxes on the desk. He stayed for a moment to explain the items were necklaces connected to an enchanted and warded medallion. The enchantments protected against physical attacks only, such as swords, axes, arrows, and possibly from firearms. The medallions also created a medium strength occlumency shield around their minds.

The medallions were rechargeable if their strength was depleted and could be fed energy from any high heat source, like a chemical or gas fire. The total price was two thousand galleons each.

Zane propped himself up on the desk and looked at the men closely.

"I have two sets of dragon hide torso armor. As it is not a full suit each set comes out to be three thousand galleons. Is this agreeable to you?" Zane asked, scrutinizing them closely.

They both nodded, neither really caring for the full body suits they found in Diagon Alley. Despite their gold boon they didn't have near enough to get everything on the list. Already their bill was twenty thousand. With seven left over Scott was starting to worry they wouldn't have enough funds to acquire the muggle goods on their _other_ list.

"Your list covered other items for enchantments. May I see them?" Zane asked. Scott and Nate handed over their assault vests, holsters, gun cases, and all their spare magazines.

"We need each individual pouch enchanted to double their capacity. Same for the holsters. We also need a featherlight enchantment so everything does not weigh us down. The magic must not interfere with any muggle electronic devices we might attach to them." Scott shot out the instructions.

After looking over their gear for several moments, Zane let out a gruff snort.

"Doable. Five hundred for the trouble. And these?" Zane lifted up a magazine.

"The metal boxes are called magazines and can be use to store up to thirty metal cartridges of ammunition for –

"Yes, yes, I know what these are. What do you take me for, some ignorant wizard? We goblins pride ourselves in our knowledge. You want these to be enlarged as well?" Zane barked at them.

"Within reason. They need to fit into the mag well of a combat rifle and flawlessly feed into the weapon. The enchantments should also not interfere with our electronics." Scott explained. He and Nate placed ten magazines each for their main battle rifles and for their pistols. Zane looked at the heap and rather than celebrate the work, sighed in frustration.

"What you want borders on technomancy. Ministry decree makes it illegal to combine muggle technology and magic with the intent to do harm. I could be jailed for what you are asking!" Zane spoke quietly.

Scott and Nate shared a look.

"Well since we're already going down that road," Nate said to Scott. Scott knew Nate was thinking of their combat rifles.

"There's not much I think we should modify. We could make them weightless, but that would throw off our balance. I've trained myself to work past the FAL's muzzle climb and recoil. We change anything I would need to relearn all of that." Scott told him. Nate rolled that over in his brain.

"True, but think of the long gain! A .308 that kisses your shoulder with the recoil of a .22LR? And a forced twenty kilometer ruck march with a weapon that weighs a pound instead of twelve? We can take some time here to retrain ourselves. This is something we need to do!" Nate was adamant.

Scott finally relented. He unpacked his FAL and Glock and placed the weapons on the desk. Nate followed his example.

"You know how a muggle firearm functions?" Scott asked Zane. He got a cold look in response. "Right. You make these guns weigh less, and reduce the felt recoil from their calibers. Maybe give them some extended range. We'll take a few enchantments for durability and reliability, and finish it up with a silencer and a honing charm for our knives. You do all that, plus the bags we'll give you three thousand even."

"Illegal. Technomany in it's purest form. I must ask what you intend to do with this power? What do mere muggles plan to gain from this?" One of Zane's hands had slipped out of view. His hand probably grasping a weapon out of sight.

Scott felt Nate tense behind him. Their weapons were within reach on the counter, but they would lose time snatching them up. Scott could probably get to his SOG knife strapped to his thigh, but he doubted the dull blade would be of much use here.

"Alright. We are mercenaries. Both of us are squibs cast out of some unsavory pure-blood families. We plan to lay in a trap for your local terrorist. The idiot parading around as Lord Voldemort. We're going to introduce him to how muggles like to fight a war."

Zane was silent for a long time. Finally, his hand eased from behind the desk.

"Just Voldemort? No others?" He asked. Zane's low voice was gaining in strength but it still remained a whisper.

"Him and any Death Eaters we come across. I doubt one of their shields can stand up against some thirty cal bullets out of these babies." Scott said. The smirk on his face was genuine.

"And then what?" You two will go back to the muggle world carrying my bloody enchantments?"

"We're mercenaries. We hire out to the highest bidder. When we get back, your enchantments will let us do our job better. If you want a particular destination in mind, there's a bunch of Christians needing help in South Sudan. About to be over run and they need some military consultation."

"Fine. Your price is good. Come by tomorrow morning to pick them up. If I find you have spoken a word of this matter to any ministry supporter or official, you will become the least favorite people of the goblin nation. There is no crevice, hole, or abandoned cave on this earth that will hide you from us. Do you understand?"

Scott and Nate nodded and left the small shop. They found another dealership in Knockturn that hired out the services of House Elves. As Scott and Nate stood surveying the store, Scott noticed the odd looks and wide berths the other citizens of the alley were giving them. It seems word had spread that there were two new bad asses in town. Perhaps the Hogwarts attack had finally made the papers.

"What do we need here?" Nate asked.

"These elves can jump all over the world. We leave our duffels here with our money and they can get any normal item we want. I'm thinking we get ourselves a large cache of weapons, ammo, and explosives. Throw some food, water, and sustainable supplies into the mix and we're set." Scott told him.

The house elves were contracted to work for the business for a small fee, taken out of the service charge. For ten galleons a person could rent the services of an elf for the entire day. Scott got two elves and gave them half of their gold, and well as their duffel bags. He wrote out two identical lists and touched it up with some personal items. They gave the elves explicit instructions about where they were to go and asked them to find as much as they could. If the elves spent the full amount that was alright.

After leaving the service store, the brothers made it back to Diagon. They found a trunk dealer and purchased two identical trunks. Each had a large empty space that measured a thousand square feet, with a ladder leading down to the floor. The trunks came with security pass codes and internal alarms for the people inside. If Scott or Nate decided to sleep in the trunk, an alarm would sound if an unwanted person was trying to gain entry.

The trunks were weightless and had a shrinking charm activated by verbal command. All of the magical attachments to the trunk were self sustaining and did not rely on a witch or wizards magical core. These were the type of trunks bought and sold to squibs and muggle parents of magical students. Each trunk cost the brothers five hundred galleons.

After leaving the trunk store, the brothers found a seedy pub at the end of the alley. Inside they rented a room and bought a meal, finding a dark corner where they could talk and plan accordingly.

"Tomorrow night, The main character of this little adventure is going to blunder into a trap and get a bunch of kids hurt." Scott began.

"Anybody dead?"

"Yeah, Harry's godfather gets whacked. Then he goes off and faces Voldemort and gets his brain scrambled. Here's what were going to do. After Zane fixes our gear, we're going to the ministry. We don our cloaks inside and wait until closing time. You get set up in the main atrium. There should be a fountain there. There's some nice sniper nests in there, and your cloak should keep you protected. You're going to take the kill shot on Voldemort. Don't skimp. Blow him away. You also have weapons free on any Death Eaters you see. Those bastards have dark cloaks with silver or white masks on their faces. You got that?" Scott asked.

"Got it, kill the honcho and any cocksuckers under him."

"Good. I'll take out the ones fighting the kids and the Order. IF we do this right, we can ghost in and out without anybody noticing us."

"And if we are found out? What then? We could shift back home." Nate said. Scott scratched his chin for a moment. Subconsciously he was slightly surprised to find a great deal of stubble. He worked out the possibilities in his mind.

"If we get captured, we stick with the hardliner approach. I can do most of the talking since I know most of the book. These medallions should keep our minds safe from any prying eyes. We might be able to give them a leg up on future information. If we are captured, get away as soon as possible. If we can't do that, we disable them. If their going to force the issue we go lethal and take out however many we need to in order to escape."

Nate looked at him slightly surprised. Scott saw the look and waved it off. He took a sip of his fire whiskey and whistled at the flavor. The drink was strong and yet smooth. A river of fire poured into his stomach and smoke curled around his ears. It was the best damn drink he'd ever tasted.

"Get a few bottles of this stuff," Nate muttered after his own sip. Scott smiled.

"Hell, we got the room. Let's pack up the whole damn supply. As many bottles as it takes." Scott told him. They shook on it.

"All that matters is we get out of here with our gear intact. With these weapons we can conquer most fantasy worlds, and build up a sizable amount of wealth." Scott finally resumed. Nate was nodding his head grinning wildly at the idea.

"We're going to be mercenaries. True ones. Hell, I'm down with that idea!" He said.

"Yeah, at least until we can create our own wealth. Let's get a room and plan things out in detail." Scott said, downing the rest of his drink with a satisfied gulp.


	7. Chapter Seven: Behead the Snake

Chapter Seven: Behead the Snake

AN/: so here's my butchered version of the ministry battle.

**Excerpt from **_**The Order of the Phoenix by JK Rowling:**_

_ There was a loud bang and a yell from behind the dais. Harry saw Kingsley, yelling in pain, hit the ground. Bellatrix Lestrange turned tail and ran as Dumbledore whipped around. He aimed a spell as her but she deflected it. She was halfway up the steps now –_

_ "Harry – no!" cried Lupin, but Harry had already ripped his arm from Lupin's slackened grip. _

_ "SHE KILLED SIRIUS!" bellowed Harry. "SHE KILLED HIM – I'LL KILL HER!" _

_ And he was off, scrambling up the stone benches. People were shouting behind him but he did not care. The hem of Bellatrix's robes whipped out of sight ahead and they were back in the room where the brains were swimming …(**Rowling,** **808-809.)**_

Scott shook his head as he saw Harry run off in pursuit of Bellatrix. The kid had a fire in him that Scott had seen before. It reminded him a lot of himself in a way, with his acceptance into the US Army Rangers. Back then he'd been filled with the same piss and vinegar, and held a vast untrained potential. And now with the death of Sirius Black, that fire had the potential to become white hot. Harry would harden from this mistake and come back stronger than ever before.

Scott keyed his radio and spoke softly into the mic, "SB got aced, Potter is on his way to you. Kill the bitch if possible."

A soft "Roger," came back to him. It seemed Zane's enchantments on their radio equipment was working perfectly. Hopefully the same could be said for their weapons. Scott watched the Death Eaters and Order members duke it out in the veil room. He was sequestered in an unobtrusive corner, FAL at the ready under his new invisibility cloak.

The light show before him was interesting to watch but too inefficient to his warrior eyes. The jets of light were far to slow in their flights and easily dodged with minor reflexes. Every combatant relied too much on their wands, and there was very little spacial awareness. A pair of duelers would fight side by side and neither party would think to send a shot to help their buddy. There was no sense of tactics, or strategy, and the fights were haphazard with no form or order.

A squad of pogues could take these people out, Scott thought to himself.

Dumbledore was the only impressive fighter of the lot. He spun left and right in his hideous robes, sending spells towards any unsuspecting death eater. The older man twirled his wand and seven blue beams of energy lashed out wrapping around each death eater in the room and pulling them together in a tight tether. With a few twists of his wand, the old wizard bound the death eaters and kept them in place. Then Dumbledore bounded off in pursuit of Harry.

The order members gathered together. The girl with bright pink hair picked the black man off the floor and fed him a potion vial. The scarred one had two wands pointed at the captured enemy. None of the Order members seemed to be aware of their surroundings. A perfect entry for him.

Scott raised his rifle and let the cloak spill off the barrel, slightly revealing him to any searching eyes. He sighted on the mass of death eaters and compensated for Zane's enchantments. He belted out a full magazines from the rifle, holding down the trigger and spraying the captured forces. Ninety rounds of heavy .308 slugs blasted from the modified thirty round magazine, shredding the death eaters, and sending bloody chunks across the room.

The FAL coughed instead of roared, sounding exactly like a silenced pistol. The recoil was almost nil, and Scott overcompensated for the first ten rounds or so, cutting a swath in the stone floor. But the other eighty were on target for a devastating effect.

Jugson, Rabastan, Rodolphus, Dolohov, Lucius, Crabbe, Goyle, and Nott all died within seconds. Their bodies ripped to shreds. Some of the heavy slugs carried enough force to blow off arms and legs, others capable of pulverizing skulls, taking their leering white masks with them.

The order members stood still in shock, disbelieving the sight before them. Moody spun around immediately and shot two stunners at Scott's position. He dived out of the way and rolled on the floor. His cloak caught on the ALICE pack and pulled half way off his body, revealing his position to the other order members. Scott didn't care, he had already recovered and was now holding them under his gun sights.

"Who're ye?" The grizzled Auror barked out. The two wands were pointed right between Scott's eyes.

"An ally," Scott quietly said. He lowered his rifle and stood fully. Still under wand point, Scott stowed away his invisibility cloak and walked up to the order members. Kingsley gasped when he saw the assault vest and accompanying sidearm. The jet black clothes and camouflage face paint made Scoot look like a menacing specter. It was the affect the mercenary longed for.

"Name's Scott Craig. I'm a mercenary hired to shorten this war. I think that would do it a bit." Scott informed them. He gestured to the bloody mass of bodies in the middle of the floor.

"We don't kill people!" Tonks leaned in and shouted at him. Scott was impressed. During her tirade her hair went from pink to a dark red. It made her look very attractive.

"The light never kills. It's not our way," Kingsley said. He too had raised his wand, roughly pointing it in Scott's directing. The mercenary pretended to take no notice.

"And how's that working out for you? Capture eight key enemies and throw them in jail. Then watch as the incompetent bureaucracy lets them loose or lets them escape? Then you're back to battling them across the country. And the cycle repeats itself." Scott spat at them.

"American, from yer accent," Moody said. Scott looked at him and smirked.

"Yeah American, you want my full history? Fine, my brother and I are squibs, thrown out of the family at eleven. We enrolled in the military, army and marines respectively. Ten years later we get shafted, thrown to the wolves, so we become mercenaries. And until three weeks ago, my brother and I've been screwing up people in Africa, until we get paid a load of money to come up here and have some fun. Satisfied?"

"Whose your employer?" Kingsley asked. Scott glared at him.

"Not up for discussion. Suffice it to say we're on your side."

"Brother?" Tonks spoke up. Scott smiled at her.

"Right, lets check on him, shall we?" He grabbed up his radio and spoke loudly into the mic. "Nate, is snake face dead yet?"

A slow understanding was beginning to dawn on the order's faces. The radio shot out hash for a moment, then Nate's voice came back loud and clear.

"He's dead. Head's only thing recognizable. Got a boy and an old wierdo who wants to talk to you." Kingsley snorted despite himself.

"What about the bitch?"

"She got away,"

"Did he just say what I think he said?" Tonks asked. Scott detected the light hope in her voice. Scott gave her a gin this time. The door to the veil room slammed open and the order members spun their wands up. Scott had lifted his FAL to the ready position then lowered it as he identified the newcomers.

It was the kids from the school. All of them looked a little worse for wear, bruises and lacerations covered their bodies. Scott glanced over and saw the portly boy, Neville, stumbling towards the kids. He hadn't spoken a word since Scott's bloody entrance.

"Well now that the gang's all here, Lets go see how my older brother's doing, shall we?" Scott smiled at them with far too much enthusiasm.

The moment Scott's warning hit Nate's Mic, he hunkered down and sighted through the scope of his REPR. Nate was in a prone position at the far end of the ministry atrium. He was a good seventy meters from the impressive fountain at the center, and well within the effective range of his rifle. For good measure he checked to see that his REPR was in battery, a motherfucker primed in the chamber. Just like Scott, Nate had his invisibility cloak spread over his body, with just a foot or so of his rifle pointing out from under the camouflage.

He didn't have to wait long, as a skinny black haired woman staggered out one of the left hand doors of the atrium. Two jets of light shot out after her, missing, but not by much. A scrawny kid raced out after her. He took proper aim as she neared the fountain and cut loose with a jagged red light. The spell struck the bitch in the back and sent her over with a cry into the fountain of water.

Nate smiled grimly and settled his Leopold scope on the lip of the fountain, intending to pop her head open as she rose out. Bellatrix stayed just beyond his sights and floundered a bit in the water. The two exchanged words and Bellatrix's cold laughter sent a chill down Nate's spine.

"Bitches be crazy!" Nate whispered to himself. He watched as they yelled at each other. Bellatrix appeared behind the fountain, obscuring Nate's shot. She moved behind an office door and Nate cursed his luck. The boy, Harry, moved up to the statues and sent a couple more curses the bitches way. Then she dropped to the floor and stated sobbing.

Nate watched them have an angst fest back and forth. His boredom was starting to get the better of him as he toyed with putting his rifle sights on Harry's legs. He heard a high cold voice breach his ears and send ripples across his skin.

"Can't I, Potter?"

And the new dude appeared, just fucking appeared in the middle of the atrium! Nate had to jerk his body sharply to the left to sight in on the newcomer. He winced as he took in the silky black robes and the snake like face. The new guy was completely hairless with very little muscle covering his bony exposed arms. Long fingernails extended from his hands, each one ending in a wicked spike.

Harry raised his wand, but with a casual wave of his hand, Voldemort tossed the weapon away. Nate caressed the trigger of his REPR. He added another pound of pressure to the pull, sights dead on the back of Snake Face's head. Just as he was about to fire, Voldemort sent a sickly green curse Harry's way. Nate watched mesmerized as one of the statue from the fountain rose up, jumped in front of Harry, and blocked the curse. Marble exploded off the statue's chest as the killing spell was absorbed.

Voldemort turned and cursed at another figure slowly walking out of the shadows at the far end of the Atrium. This was another wizard decked out in brilliant, yet ridiculous looking robes. The two verbally spared for several moments. Then Voldemort raised his wand and fired off another green spell.

Nate just shook his head. "The most fucked up world I've ever seen," He whispered to himself. The light show as impressive and slightly dangerous. Voldemort produced a fiery sixty foot snake that Dumbledore flung into the ceiling. Several chunks of tiles and rock fell across the atrium, some uncomfortably close to Nate's position. A shocking black cloud shot out of Voldemort's wand and vaporized a ten meter crater in the floor, barely missing the light wizard.

Just as Nate seemed to catch a break, his sights settling on Voldemort's chest, Dumbledore captured the Dark Lord in a sphere of water. The old wizard concentrated and started the sphere spinning, keeping the Dark lord discombobulated. They were at an impasse for several moments, before Dumbledore seemed to lose concentration. The sphere of water fell to the floor and Voldemort rolled free. He sprung up and directed his wand at Dumbledore. A killing curse was just leaving his lips when his chest exploded in a shower of blood and gore.

Nate grinned, and he depressed the trigger, spraying Voldemort's body with motherfuckers. The meaty flesh did not provide enough impact to detonate the explosive, but the 185gr projectiles made up for the loss. Gouts of blood spurted from the Dark Lord's body as Nate stitched a red line up his leg and into his stomach. He kept his aim off the head, for verification purposes. Finally his rifle coughed out it's last round. Nate nodded once at the job and reloaded with a fresh modified magazine.

The great Dark Lord Voldemort was quite dead, his body being nearly ripped to shreds. The body petered for a second before falling to the floor with a loud wet slap. A pool of thick blood and various chunks of meat spread around the body. The snake like face was set in a sneer that rigor mortise would make permanent in a matter of hours.

Nate rose form his snipers nest and yanked off his cloak, stowing the thing away in his bag. He slowly approached Albus Dumbledore. He spared a glance at Harry, as the kid puked his guts out into the partially animated fountain. The mercenary strode up next to Dumbledore and looked over his handiwork. The light wizard did not spare Nate a glance though he was very aware of the newcomers presence. The shock at seeing his former student gutted so thoroughly was gripping him in the silence.

An inhuman moan arose form the corpse. The body jerked once in a spasm before a greenish light spread from the skull and encompassed the upper chest. Dumbledore's wand shot up as Nate raised his own weapon in response. They needn't have bothered. The moans abruptly halted as a green spirit escaped the body. The spirit took a partial form of a human body and hissed at them threateningly before it zoomed up and vanished into the ceiling.

"Oh dear, I suspected, but I never thought he'd really do it. Poor Tom, what have you done?" Dumbledore whispered. Nate picked up on every word.

"Hell, the longer I stay here the more this place gets fucked up." He said aloud. Dumbledore gazed at the ceiling foe a moment longer.

"Who are you?" Albus finally rasped out. His finger tightened on his wand.

"Nathaniel Craig. Call me Nate."

Dumbledore finally looked at Nate and took him in, scanning professionally over his black BDUs assault vest, and face paint. His visible weapons, and probably hidden ones came under the same minute scrutiny. Nate bore the gaze with his head high.

"That tells me nothing … Nate," Albus finally said. Nate shrugged and offered up another practiced response.

"My brother and I got some good intel that Voldie would be here tonight. We laid a trap."

Dumbledore's eye raised slightly when he heard this.

"Brother?" Nate sighed and right on cue Scott's voice came through his ear piece.

"Nate, is snake face dead yet?" Nate grabbed his radio and spoke out loud for his small audience.

"He's dead. Head's only thing recognizable. Got a boy and an old wierdo who wants to talk to you." Dumbledore's only reaction was a jerk of his head. He stared at the radio in wonder.

"What about the bitch?" Scott's voice now came through the intercom as Nate depressed the proper button. Nate gave the atrium a moments scan before the reported back.

"She got away," He spat a large wad onto Voldemort's corpse and rechecked his weapon. The boring eyes from the old wizard was making him antsy.

"Who are you?" Dumbledore asked again. Nate shrugged. He spun around slightly as several fireplaces lit up down the entrance hall. Dozens of wizards and witches poured out, racing towards the destruction in the atrium. Red robed wizards were out in front of the group, wands held high as if in a charge.

"They friendly?" Nate asked. He raised his REPR into the low ready position, just in case.

"Yes, they're Aurors. Our version of magical law enforcement. Let me do the talking." Dumbledore moved towards the crowd arms to his sides. Nate admired him for a moment. The old wizard moved with a commanding purpose. His body gave off an aura of self assurance and confidence, and deep underneath a pulse of pure power. Despite his ridiculous clothes, this was a man you did not want to fuck with.

"Is he really dead?" The voice snapped Nate's gaze around to the kid, Harry. The boy was looking at the bloody corpse, all feelings of disgust gone from his face. There was a flash of something else, like hope. Nate gave the corpse a good kick with his boot.

"Deader than a box of nails."

"You used muggle weapons?" Nate took that for a question. He hefted his REPR and admired it for a second.

"Yep, better than those frilly spells of yours. More accurate too," he bragged. The look on Harry's face told him the description of his spells as 'frilly' was not taken well. Nate just shrugged at him.

"HARRY!" The shriek quieted the atrium immensely and made Nate wince slightly. Some girl just blew out her voice box with that shriek. He looked over and saw a gaggle of beat up kids running towards the fountain. Taking up the rear were three surly wizards and his brother, with a shit eating grin on his face.

Dumbledore was talking quietly with a large group of black robed men. The foremost had a stupid look on his face and a dusty bowler hat on his head. His robes barely concealed a enlarged stomach with pajamas underneath. Finally after a few last words, Dumbledore moved away from them and walked back to Nate. Scott had joined him at his side, giving the other brother a hearty slap on the back.

"I do not believe this is the proper atmosphere for a lengthy discussion. Might we retire somewhere more comfortable?" Dumbledore asked them smoothly. The hard look on the old man's face told the mercenaries there was no other choice.

Its what they wanted anyway. They gave their consent. Dumbledore picked up several pieces of rubble off the floor and waved his wand over them, converting the pieces to ad-hoc portkeys. He handed one piece to Scott and Nate, then distributed the rest among his fellow people.

"Nymphadora, my dear, would you please take the kids back to headquarters. Do call madam Pomfrey and get them some attention. Harry please join us." Dumbledore said. He turned a wary eye on the brothers.

"I'll need to clean up a bit here. The portkey will take you to my office at Hogwarts. Simply state activate while holing it."

Nate and Scott simply shrugged their shoulders. They watched as first, Moody, then Harry were whisked away. Now familiar with the process they jumped away from the ministry.

Dumbledore's office was an exact replica of his weird mindset. Books and papers were scattered everywhere with many a toy and whimsical tool resting amongst the furniture. Harry sat, looking tired and drained, in one of the comfortable easy chairs. His face was buried in his hands and the silent shaking of his shoulders told of his emotional state.

Moody stood in a corner, silently glaring at the two mercenaries. The old Auror held two wands in his hands, though they were not pointed threateningly. Scott and Nate stood calmly in front of the large wood desk, taking in their surroundings with a detached interest. A beautiful red and gold phoenix stood on an elaborate perch. The bird merely watched the newcomers. A dozen moving portraits were arrayed around the room staring down at the visitors.

"Well that was fun," Nate said aloud. Scott snorted and leaned against the wood desk. He checked his rifle and shifted his backpack around on his shoulders.

"Wasn't it? Eight death eaters and the honcho. And we're not even getting paid!" Scott said. He smiled slightly. Neither man acknowledged Moody in the corner, nor did they care.

"What's next on the agenda?"

"We keep up the pressure. Hit the next staging ground for them. I'm thinking Malfoy Manor," Scott laid out the next plan, going through several points. Moody made no sound in reaction to their planning. He did move forward a few feet to listen in.

"We're still kinda poor, bro." Nate pointed out. Scott shrugged.

"Assaulting Malfoy Manor is not entirely based on the goodness of our hearts. I'm sure there's enough gold there to keep us occupied. We fill our pockets then detonate the place."

Nate grinned at the sound of explosives.

The fireplace flared and Dumbledore calmly walked out. He was shortly followed by Kingsley and another Auror. The headmaster viewed the visitors for a moment. He stepped over and stroked Fawkes's feathers as a greeting. The phoenix let out a slight trill in response. The sound brought a chill down the brother's spines.

"You'll be happy to learn, Harry, that none of your friends were hurt by this evenings escapades." Dumbledore said quietly. Harry did not look up or acknowledge the others in the room at all. He seemed perfectly comfortable to sit in the chair and stew in his own misery.

Nate glanced around and noticed Kingsley and the other Auror had arranged themselves to cover all the avenues. The brothers were surrounded in the small room. Dumbledore sat behind his desk and steepled his fingers. He stared at the brothers.

"Now I think it best we get to the bottom of this mystery. You must tell me exactly who you are and why you're here." Dumbledore said.

"I'm Scott Craig, formerly a US Army Ranger, got a dishonorable discharge a couple years back. Went into the mercenary business and took on a lot of jobs in Asia and Southern Africa. This here's my brother, Nathaniel Craig, goes by Nate. He use to be a US marine Force Recon Sniper. He got shafted last year on a routine mission and was given the boot. Now we freelance together." Scott told him. He skirted the truth as much as possible, knowing Dumbledore and the wizard's mental skills. He hoped Zane's medallion would hold up under a Dumbledore class of scan.

"You both are squibs I take it?" Dumbledore asked the question to Nate. The former marine raised an eye brow at the change of tactics and glanced down at his younger brother. Scott answered for them both.

"Yeah, but we don't go by that designation. We're warriors, through and through. Families kicked us out at eighteen. Guess they don't like non-magicals tarnishing their bloodlines." That was hopefully the only full lie he'd have to tell. Maybe.

"That does not explain why you're here," Again Dumbledore directed the question to Nate.

"We got a message from one of our contacts. Some big gun up here wanted this little bit of extremist terrorism you have to stop, and right damn quick. So we accept the money, grab a portkey and here we are."

"And your story? Is it the same?" Dumbledore asked. Scott glanced at him and then Nate.

"His name is Nate," Scott said. Dumbledore simply raised an eyebrow.

"I do not take kindly to silent strangers in my office. Especially when their lives are dictated to me without comment,"

Incredulous Scott made a show of looking directly at Kingsley and Moody. He shook his head at Dumbledore's continued silence and elbowed Nate in the ribs.

"Where's the location of Malfoy Manor," Nate ground out. Scott smirked knowingly. Dumbledore leaned back, surprised by the question. He glanced around at his pawns.

"Why would you need to know that?" He asked softly. The conversation had taken a suddenly dangerous turn.

"Because we want to blow it up. Better sooner than later. The more time those assholes have to regroup the worse it's gonna get down the road." Nate said.

"I find it hard to believe that with all your supposed knowledge into our affairs, you cannot locate a simple mansion."

Scott cursed softly to himself. Time for another lie.

"Lucius Malfoy is very rich. He pays as much as he makes in order to keep his dealings secret. We know a lot, but most of that first hand intel took months to get. At this point we've exhausted our available options." Scott said.

"Playing it by ear," Nate unnecessarily added.

"I'm not convinced giving you such information would prove beneficial." Dumbledore said.

Scott shrugged and looked over at Moody.

"Where's Malfoy Manor," The smirk he received made him grin. Moody opened his mouth to answer, but Dumbledore cut him off.

"I will not let you shed any more needless bloodshed. While I thank you for the help, such murder can not be tolerated."

"Needless murder? Are you nuts old man?" Scott nearly yelled at him. He felt the medallion against his chest vibrate slightly and warm at his skin. He broke eye contact and snatched the Glock from his side. He aimed the weapon at Dumbledore's chest, finger tightening on the trigger.

Moody, Kingsley, and the Auror reacted a second too slow, pointing their wands at the brothers. Harry no longer looked dismayed, instead staring wide eyes at the action unfolding. Through it all Dumbledore had not moved a muscle, save only a slight narrowing of his eyes.

"Do not look at my mind. You do that again I will not hesitate to kill you. We slaughtered eight death eaters today. We took out Voldemort and bought your miserable lives another few years of solitude. Got it! We don't care about you, the kid, or your little empire here. We just want to get rich and blow shit up while we're at it."

The tension in the room did not ease. Dumbledore sat quietly as he pondered the words. A thousand questions sang through his dull eyes. He looked long and hard at the brothers before casting his gaze on Harry Potter.

"Forgive me. I check everyone who could be a possible threat. If it weren't for your actions tonight, I would seize your secrets. But as you say, your actions have proven yourselves. My lapse will not happen again." Dumbledore spoke quietly.

Scott and Nate both gave him grim nods. They holstered their weapons and stood at ease. The Aurors took longer to relax.

"Now, I believe we should label you two as allies of the Order?" Dumbledore ventured.

"More like freelance agents." Scott corrected. Dumbledore gave a nod and smiled like some idiot's grandfather. His eyes twinkled madly.

"Well then welcome to our cause. However, if you intend to fight for the light, I would recommend you end the needless bloodshed."

Nate scoffed and muttered to himself. He walked around the room, occasionally shaking his fist at an unseen enemy. Scott's shoulders slumped, his only reaction to Dumbledore's statement.

"Is he alright?" Moody rasped from the corner. Both of his eyes were watching Nate carefully. Scott snorted.

"Yeah, he's just allergic to idiots. Look, Dumbledore, We're not here to play games. My bother and I are the best weapons you got right now. We don't just defeat death eaters, we put them in the fucking ground. You give us the go ahead, and we can end this war in a matter of days. We'll kill every death eater in Voldie's service, and give you room to maneuver on the big guy."

Dumbledore shook his head, " Voldemort is dead." He denied.

"No, his body is dead. His spirit is still out there waiting for the next horcrux to awaken."

Scott knew instantly he had said too much. Dumbledore rose from the desk and the full power of his aura hit Scott and Nate like a sledgehammer, throwing them across the office and into the far wall. Scott's Glock appeared in his hand, but it was snatched away by an unseen force.

"How do you know that term?" Dumbledore said. His voice had taken on a menacing tone. Small sparks of electricity jumped off of his body. The Aurors stood shocked by the display. None of them had seen such anger and ferocity in their leader. No one registered poor Harry's presence in the room.

"Fuck, put us down." Nate growled. Scott struggled manically, but the power seemed to squeeze him tighter, forcing his arms into his back.

"No more lies and half truths. Tell me!" Dumbledore roared at them. Scott wiggled his head to the left and caught his brother's eyes. This was definitely not in the plan.

"We're from an alternate reality." Scott said softly. The pressure on him dissipated, though he was still held firmly against the wall.

"Explain."

And Scott did. He told the wizard everything about the world shifter and their plans on how to use it. He talked about the goblin, Zane, and how they modified their gear and weapons. He told Dumbledore how their plan was to kill all the remaining death eaters and leave the order time to build up strength and find all seven horcruxes. With each truth coming out of Scott's mouth the force against him lessened, until both he and Nate were finally free.

Scott snatched up his rifle and pointed it directly at Dumbledore's head. Nate mirrored him only he kept the Aurors covered.

"What the fuck was that!" Scott screamed. He heaved in air into his lungs, his chest throbbing from nearly being crushed inward. His entire back ached in a near full body bruise.

"A simple truth charm. Had you lied to me further the power would have crushed you completely." Dumbledore explained calmly.

"You call that simple?" Kingsley grunted.

"Simple, elegant, easy, and also highly illegal. But it got the job done." Dumbledore said rather lightly.

"Swear on your life and your magic you will not take the device, or I swear by this rifle I'll blow your brains all over this office." Scott snarled at him.

Dumbledore laughed.

"I I don't care what you and your brother do in alternate realities. I care only about Tom. He must be stopped at all costs. Help me to achieve that at least." The old wizard said.

Ever so slowly, the two rifle muzzles pointed to the floor.

"Though I abhor killing and violence, I must say you men have made a convincing argument. Whatever dark lords we capture and bring to justice, they have a way of finding their freedom and wreaking havoc again. We capture, they break out, and our cycle becomes endless. Do you know of the remaining horcruxes?"

Scott listed off the dark objects, giving their exact locations. He even hinted at RAB and the hidden locket.

"And you will leave our reality when your job is done?" Dumbledore seemed incredibly calm about the whole thing.

"Yeah, we kill all the death eaters and get rich on gold in the process." Nate said loudly.

"Albus, you can't be seriously considering this?" Kingsley pleaded with his leader. Dumbledore held up a single hand to forestall any more comments.

"Alastor, what do you think of this?" Dumbledore asked.

"Never heard of other realities before," The gruff wizard replied. Dumbledore smiled faintly.

"There is an ancient myth that Merlin was a dimension traveler. It is a plausible theory amongst muggle circles. What is your exact plan of attack?"

Scott took a big breath, plan already laid out in his mind, "Phase one: Raid Malfoy Manor, kill all death eaters, steal all books, objects, paintings, and gold, plant some explosive and raze the place to the ground. Phase two: Raid the Guant house, copy Phase one, steal the Guant ring, blow more shit up. Phase three involves taking out Gringotts and getting that cup. How do you feel about goblins?"

Dumbledore seemed impressed by the forwardness of the plan, even if he looked a little sick from the nonchalance of the described violence.

"Goblins are exceptional bankers, greedy and vicious, but also zealots to their beliefs. They hate humans, and are willing to go to war to make an extra galleon. In war they kill women and children as well as men. They feel no remorse, and care only for gold." Dumbledore explained. The looks of disgust on the Auror's faces added to the description nicely.

"Right then, Phase three we threaten the goblins with destruction and steal the cup. After you get all the horcruxes in your possession, we leave and move on to better worlds. How's that?" Scott finished.

"Do you need Order assistance to complete these tasks?" Dumbledore asked. Scott gave him a simple shrug.

"Leave that to an as needed basis. Run some interference for us with the local government. I don't think they would take kindly to Malfoy's mansion going up in flames."

"Done!" Albus Dumbledore smiled, truly smiled for the first time in years.

One little voice broke into their thoughts.

"I'm a horcrux?" Harry James Potter asked, eyes wide as frying pans.

* * *

**I rushed this to get it done tonight, so there might be a lot of mistakes. I have been really busy lately with work. Anyway, now we get to have some fun. I'm wrapping up this world in the next two to three chapters. Lots of fun action cropping up. Then it's onwards to a new universe.**

**I understand that any HP fanfics must follow the Harry centric plot idea. But I don't focus much on HP. My story is about the brothers and how they have fun. These guys are going to recreate the universe.**

**Please give me reviews. Tell me how I'm doing. Do you like it? Hate it? Why? Criticism, helpful criticism, helps me write better. Or at least steers me in a proper direction. Reviews fuel the soul, and keep me writing, not just for my own pleasure, but for yours as well.**


	8. Chapter Eight: Assault on Malfoy Manor

**Very raw. I am applying for Grad School, so I don't have a lot of time for edits.**

Chapter 8: Assault on Malfoy Manor

Finding the ancestral home of the Ancient and Noble House of Malfoy was ridiculously easy. The prodigious amount of fundraisers, parties, business meetings, and orgies allowed for most of the wizarding population to at least be aware of the manor's existence.

The manor was impressive to say the least. A massive Italian and roman architectural structure, standing a good five stories tall on a thousand acre tract of land, eighty miles from London. Malfoy Manor sported two hundred rooms, four levels, and an underground complex complete with dungeons, barracks, armory, library, and training hall. A good hundred thousand square feet of space made up the mansion, with a finely manicured lawn surrounding the premises.

Tactically speaking, the house was a complete nightmare. The lawns for the grounds were cut out to five hundred meters, with not a scrub or tree for concealment and cover. The outer walls were thick, and the many fountains, marble staircases, narrow windows, and viewing towers offered hundreds of good cover positions for shooters. Nearly every square inch could be turned into a murderous firing position.

Then there were the magical wards that layered the entire premises like an onion. Each layer only got stronger the closer you came to the core of the premises. Apparently these wards there designed to repel all magical beings with ill intent towards the manor and those within. A few simple Notice-Me-Not wards were kept in place to ward away the muggles. Inferior animals were not seen as threats anyway.

"You know, if they had some decent body guards with machine-gun teams at those fountains, this would be a lot harder." Scott muttered as he glassed the compound with a pair of binoculars.

The two brothers lay, covered in their invisibility cloaks, just inside the treeline, a good five hundred meters from the front door of the manor. Nate was snuggled up against the stock of his REPR, eye glued to the scope. Scott had a spotting scope and range finder lying next to him. A small index card with lists of varying distances lay in front of him, within an easy glance.

"Yeah, that and a couple sniper nests in those towers. You could see the edge of the world, sitting up there. Good thing these idiots are arrogant bigots. Should make our job easier." Nate said. He grinned at the house.

Scott rose up and crouch walked backwards until he slid behind a short green tube propped up on two metal legs. An open wood crate sat waiting next to the tube. Scott checked the elevation again, and snatched up a pointed round. A big heavy round.

Those house elves in Diagon really came through. Scott and Nate were both stunned when they returned from Hogwarts to find, literally boxes and boxes of supplies overflowing from the rental house. The little elves raided nearly every military base on the island, and several across the pond for the materials. Dumbledore and his order helped out with the purchase, forking over a good two thousand galleons to make it all happen.

One of the items, that now lay ready in Scott's hands, was a M224 60mm mortar. A courtesy steal from America. Two crates of HE or high explosive came with the weapon, as well as a dozen marking munitions. Scott picked a white smoke mortat round and prepped it for launch.

"Calling it in," Nate said. "Sierra November to Oscar Tango Papa, we are beginning our assault, how copy?" He said into his radio. The device gave off a loud hash before a voice timidly spoke.

"Uh, what?" Nate spat to the side.

"Fucking idiots. Oscar Tango Papa, we are assaulting, how copy?"

"Who is this?" Scott laughed out loud at the question. He couldn't help it. Nate gave a low grumble in his throat.

"I'm the guy, fucking your grandma. Now we're gonna fuck Malfoy's wife. Copy that, dipshit?" Nate cut the radio off.

Scott primed the mortar, dropped the round and knelt away from the tube, covering his head in the process. The mortar gave a loud smack and the marker round shot off. Scott counted in his head and could just make out a puff of smoke as the marker hit the dirt.

"Seventy up," Nate grunted at him. Scott spun the elevation dial and repeated the shot. This time the white smoke charge struck the second story wall of the east side of the manor.

"Your right on. Fuck 'em."

Scott grinned wickedly, and proceeded to drop a string of ten 60mm HE rounds on the manor house. The dull thumbs of their impacts was like music to their ears. Mortar, masonry, and marble shattered under the onslaught, cracking the beautiful architecture into thousands of tiny bits. The second and third story walls caved in revealing rooms within. Into these Scott dropped three rounds of Willy Peter, or white phosphorous, which immediately ignited the upper stories.

Black arid smoke poured from the upper floors of the manor house, obscuring a deep and raging internal fire. The first level seemed pristine, while everything above it was a twisted and ugly ruin. Scott switched between HE and WP, seemingly dropping the rounds anywhere he pleased. He increased the elevation of the tube a bit and dropped another ten rounds on the roof, taking out two spires and sending a tower top hurling into the front lawn.

"Contacts, twenty plus!" Nate barked. Scott ceased his bombardment and shimmed up next to his brother. He glanced through his spotting scope and caught figures moving in front of the Manor, their figures obscured slightly from the smoke and rubble.

"Gonna have to switch to thermals." Scott muttered.

"I got it, just give me distance. How far to the third fountain?" Nate asked. The fountain in question was the furthest from their position and closest to the front door of the manor. Miraculously the collapsing spires and towers had just managed to miss landing on the fountain, which depicted a wizard with his wand raised high.

Scott glanced at his index card. "Five hundred Fifty Three meters. Wind moving East to North East 10mph."

Nate adjusted his scope and squeezed the trigger. The REPR coughed one then twice. Nate let out a soft curse.

"My aim's off. Bullet's hitting eight inches above my point of aim. Bullet trajectory is about the same as hitting a target at twenty five meters instead of five hundred." Nate explained. His rifle coughed another five times.

"Goblin magic, eh? I've compensated. Can you pick out targets?" Scott glassed the front of the manor with his scope. He saw figures scrambling to find cover and several jets of light as spells shot off in all directions. Nate's REPR let off a shot once every two seconds. One of the death eaters in Scott's field of view, lost his head in a shower of blood and gore. Scott whistled softly.

Two minutes later, all movement had ceased. Blood spatters caked the white limestone masonry, as nearly two dozen bodies lay dead on the front steps. Nate calmly reloaded his rifle with a fresh ninety round magazine. He scanned the complex with his scope and glassed the damaged building. Occasionally he would see movement from within and pop a couple more rounds at targets.

"Execute phase two." Scott said. He packed up the optics and loaded the mortar into their modified ALICE packs. The two men made sure their bodies were fully covered by the invisibility cloaks. Their back packs just barely fit under the long garments. Once they were set, Nate radioed in their progress.

"Order of the Phoenix, this is Nate and Scott, Malfoy Manor has been purged of its advanced guard, we are moving in." Nate turned the radio off before he could hear a reply. Scott smiled beneath his cloak, though he could not visibly see his brother, he knew a grimace marred the ex-marine's features.

"No more code names?" Scott asked lightly. Nate growled at him.

The brother's ghosted out of the trees and started a long jog towards their target. Nate looped around the back of the estate, scaling the first wall with little difficulty. Scott hit the front gate, using a string of yellow detonator cord, he blew a whole large enough to fit through and slipped in. Neither man was detected in their entry, despite the noise Scott caused with his explosion.

After scaling nearly a hundred steps, Scott came to appreciate Nate's masterful bloodwork. That marine was a true marksman, nailing nearly every death eater once in the head. Blood stars and chunks of gray brain matter lay nearly everywhere.

An HE round had landed on the front steps in front of the large oak entrance way. A crater half a meter wide lay in Scott's way. He swiftly bounded up to the top landing and placed a hefty pound of C4 on the front door. He set the timer for ten seconds and took cover. The explosion shook his frame, concussive force compressing his chest and causing him to gasp for air. The charge vaporized the front doors, and turned the atrium into a fire storm of destruction.

Hefting his modified FAL, Scott strode into the manor house.

And promptly ran right out. A dozen bolts of light shooting through the portal after him. Scott ducked behind the front wall and let loose a full magazine into the atrium. He relished the cries of agony that followed his barrage.

His brief look into the Atrium showed a dozen desks and tables scattered around in a semi-circle. Several heads were poking out with wands outstretched. Flames licked at the draperies and portraits, causing their occupants to flee in terror. It was a scene of near perfect chaos. The death eaters were even set up and ready for a fight. Little good that determination would do them.

Scott popped the pins on two flash bangs and tossed them through the entrance way, one after another. He covered his ears, jammed his eyes closed, and opened his mouth to release the pressure form his lungs.

FLASH! BANG!

The concussion sent a spiral of pulverized marble dust and black smoke billowing out from the atrium. As the bang echoed off the walls, Scott pushed himself out of cover and advanced inside, hugging the left hand wall. He lined up stumbling targets with his sights and expertly mowed them down. Two to the chest, and a final shot to the head, on semi. The dull silenced thumps from the muzzle was lost in the chaos of the fight.

Scott scanned his wet work with approval and advanced more cautiously into the first floor of the mansion. He checked bannisters, fountains, hidden doorways, and tapestries for enemy targets. He located three sniveling men hiding under a mahogany desk, three downs from the entrance way. Scott flicked his rifle to full auto and blasted the desk. The heavy 165gr. .308 slugs tore through the thick wood as if it was tissue paper, plastering the men groveling behind their meager cover.

Satisfied, Scott moved deeper into the house. He paused at every door, giving a cursory check of the rooms. At locked doors he used physical force or small explosive charges to rend them open. Sometimes he would locate a death eater and dispatch them, usually the rooms were empty, bereft of targets, but filled to the brim with magical oddities.

"Oscar Tango Papa is on site," Scott's radio clicked. He gave a single click in acknowledgment as he checked the last door down the corridor. Overall the entire check had taken twenty minutes from front door to back.

And the stupid Order of the Phoenix just stepped through the front door. Idiots.

"Second floor clear," Nate radioed him. Scott sighed and headed towards the grand staircase in the front hall. The entrance to the basement lay inside the main hall nestled in between the two extravagant staircases. That was where Nate and Scott expected to find the highest amount of resistance.

The brother's met up in the entrance way, each reloading their weapons and checking each other's equipment. Aurors and other members of the order were slowly walking in, gawking at the complete destruction the two mercenaries had wrought. For most this level of carnage brought old memories of the war with Grindelwald.

Albus Dumbledore strode through the atrium with a cadre of order members close on his heels. He walked right up the the brothers sparing the room a simple glance.

"You work fast, "He said simply. Scott gave him a vicious grin.

"Long as we get paid well. I though you would keep the Aurors off our backs?" Nate asked gruffly. The one thing he hated above all else was big government getting in the way of his work. Dumbledore turned to him to answer but a loud voice interrupted him.

"So these are the mercenaries?"

All three men turned to see a strong witch march through the atrium, a wand clasped firmly in either hand. Her face was young but lined with many a crease of worry. She held her head high as she strode in. She spared the dead and twisted bodies a look of disgust before closing in.

"Yes Amelia, these are our little helpers." Albus said in his grandfather tone. Scott snorted next to him while Nate spat a glob of saliva to the side.

"You must be Amelia Bones?" Scott asked. The woman raised an eyebrow and gave him a curt nod.

"Indeed, I see you've heard of me. I could not let Albus and his vigilante group go on a hunting mission without my Aurors. If you're worried in ministry intrusion, take heart. Fudge will not know of this strike until the deed is done." Amelia explained. Her gaze rolled over the two men.

Scott didn't buy a word of it.

"Bullshit. What do you want?"

Amelia froze for half a second, then she smiled, a predatory grin.

"Fudge continually undercuts the Auror program. I need funding. Half the gold you recover goes into our coffers. That and Malfoy Manor stays intact when you leave. How is that for bullshit."

"No way, we do the work and you wade in and take the damn fruit from under our noses!" Nate cut in. His grip on his weapon had turned completely white. Scott reached out a hand and gave his Brother's shoulder a comforting squeeze.

"Fine, you get half of what we find. But we're still going to raze this mansion to the ground." Scott said. Amelia shook her head.

"No way. Malfoy Manor is of an Ancient and Noble House. I cannot let you simply burn it to the ground. The wards and magical properties here are ancient. My department would have much to gain by studying them."

Scott sighed. He glanced at Albus and the Aurors surrounding them. This was exactly what he and his brother wanted to avoid.

The explosion saved him from doing something stupid.

Behind the quartet the basement doors exploded, showering the Auror entry team in a green sizzling substance. The screams started immediately as flesh was instantly liquified, and pooled off their skeletons. Amelia cursed and ran for the injured casting several healing spells in her wake. Medical wizards and Healers quickly followed.

"An acid ward, placed on the door. One of many I would suspect," Albus said. Scott and Nate exchanged a glance. Their silent conversation was clear. That could be them with their faces melted off. Scott repressed a personal shudder at such a death.

The healers went to work and carted off the severely injured. A new entry team was formed, this time of curse and ward breakers. They cast diagnostic spells and shattering and blasting hexes in their wake to clear the next level of traps.

Warily, the brothers followed the entry teams, their weapons armed and ready. As they followed behind the wizards the mercenaries received several superior and disgusted looks. The so called light wizards were as big a group of bigots as the dark.

So far not a single Death Eater had appeared in their search. Every ten meters into the dungeons, a new ward or curse would spring up and force the group to slow their pace. It took an hour to clear half a dozen rooms, including the training hall, and armory. Scott and Nate broke off from the group here and looted a bit for any items that looked interesting.

The Armory was set up like those seen in medieval castles. Weapon racks dominated the walls, and took up nearly every available space. The weapons were a mix of edged swords, daggers, axes, and simple projectile weapons like bows and crossbows. All of them shone in an intense light, and had obviously been preserved through spells and other charms.

The brother's preferred their modern projectile weapons for real wet work, but they both grabbed half a dozen swords and daggers each. If anything, these weapons would make good barter tools for a later universe.

Not all the weapons were of muggle origin. There was a crate filled to the brim with hundreds of old wands. Suits of dragon and basilisk armors stood on display mannequins. Various rare magical goods were strewn around the room, all of them giving off a darker aura than usual. Scott and Nate stripped the place of the armor, and battle style clothing, silently promising each other they would look at the stuff later. Once satisfied with their loot, the two rejoined the search teams.

They caught up with the lead group as they tried to break into the Mansion's vault on the lowest level of the dungeons. A dozen Auror's case ward detection and deletion spells on a massive wrought iron doorway the was nearly ten feet high and six across. Amelia Bones and Albus Dumbledore stood watching the Auror's work.

"Any more dangerous wards?" Amelia called out to her men. Teh Auror's kept going for another ten minutes before they ceased spell casting and backed up.

"Ma'am, All curses have been neutralized, but we have a problem. The door sealed itself as we got close. So far none of our spells have cracked it. We could try to blast our way in, but I doubt we have the power." The head Auror explained.

Albus and Amelia shared a look. They both strode forward and aimed their wands at the center of the door.

"Everyone fall back!" The head Auror called. Scott and Nate wisely jumped around the corner.

REDUCTO!

Two voices shouted in the dungeon, one on top of the other. A powerful red light flashed through the hallways nearly blinding the searchers with it's power. A thunderous explosion shook the walls. A concussion wave laid everyone out on the floor with it's force. The mansion house seemed to shake on it's foundations for several seconds before all was quiet.

Scott poked his head out around the hall way corner. He let out a soft whistle and approached the two solitary mages. The vault door was gone. Completely, utterly blown away. Most of the entry way into the vault had been pulverized as well, leaving a gaping hole a good eight feet across and twelve feet high. As the rest of the assault force joined them, Albus shot a light spell down the corridor and into the vault. The small orb split into ten different orbs, each cascading light off the walls and ceiling. A massive pile of gold, silver, and copper awaited their eyes. Chests filled with gold bars, jewels, statues, and blocks of raw ore sat ready for the taking.

Amelia cast an eye at Dumbledore and gave him a bright smile.

"Ah, it seems the Malfoy's did not trust all their fortune with the Goblins." Dumbledore said lightly as he stroked his beard. Nate grinned broadly at Scott who nodded his head.

"Don't forget our arrangement, Lady Bones." Scott reminded as politely as he could. There was a veiled threat here as well. From Scott's position he could easily put several rounds into Amelia's back before she could fire a spell off.

Amelia's smile shrank to a smirk. She raised her wand and a bright red ribbon speared into the vault and separated the cache of gold, splitting the pile right down the middle. She turned and gave a slight bow to Scott and Nate.

"For excellent services rendered to us, We'll take the right side, if you take care of the left." She said. Nate and Scott both nodded and then went to work.

Unlike the Auror's who cheered over their looted bounty and fondled the money amongst themselves, Scott and Nate professionally loaded up their back packs of holding. They sweeped arm loads of gold and silver coins into the packs. The dividing line gave them two large chests, one of gold bars and the other of priceless jewels. The chests were two big to fit into the duffel bags, so the brother's were content with grabbing arm loads of the treasure and loose dumping them into the bags. Despite their speed and single track work, it took them the better part of an hour to clear out their side of the vault.

With their bags full of looted treasure and medieval weapons, the two satisfied mercenaries made their way out of the basement and into the first floor of the mansion house. The headed for the door and found most of the Order of the Phoenix milling about ina group discussing the last three hours of the assault, they all fell silent as the two mercenaries approached.

"We ye made good on ye hit," Mad Eye said. His spinning eye slowed to a stop and analyzed the two men briefly. It spun back up after a moment. The sight was both intriguing and unnerving for Scott. He gave a simple nod at Moody's way.

"A bit better than we expected. Last count was thirty eight death eaters, all of them minor. We got the Malfoy Library, armory, dungeon, and half of the vault. Sad we can't burn it all to the ground." Scott said.

"Ye'd rather destroy it?" Moody asked. Scott gave him a stiff nod. He looked back on the damaged mansion.

"I'd rather no leave a base the enemy can use at a later date. Amelia says she wants to study the wards. That's fine, but what happens after? There might be a safe house down below or on the grounds. If this place remains it is a tempting spot for relocation, especially after it's been cleared like this."

"That is a risk we will just have to take then," Albus Dumbledore stated as he walked up to them. "I must ask what your plans are for now?" He said.

"We've dealt the Death Eaters a big damn blow. I think we need to rearm and invest our time over the summer. Let them regroup their losses. When It's time we'll strike them again when their massed, hopefully then we can wipe them all out. Or at least get most of them." Scott explained.

"You will need a place to stay." Albus stated. Scott simply grinned at him.

"Oh that's easy, we'll stay at your HQ." He said. The Order was taken aback. They gaped at him for a few moments before they all started talking at once, trying to dissuade Dumbledore of the ridiculous idea. After a moment Albus held up a hand and the sheep quieted down. All save for Moody, the old Auror silently staring at the two men as if they were a knew threat.

"And your reasoning?" Albus asked lightly.

"It's not selfish. We want a hand at teaching Harry Potter,"

"NO! ABSOLUTEY NOT!" Screeched Molly Weasley. The was immediately restrained by her husband and two other Order members. Scott wondered why she of all people had come along in the assault. Maybe she was there for support instead of combat?

"Albus," Gasped Molly, a tad more subdued but no less red in the face, "Albus, you can't let these … these .. MURDERERS teach Harry anything. They'll kill him!"

"Perhaps we should take this conversation to a more private setting," Albus said. He patted the air around Molly and Scott watched amazed as all the fight was sucked out of the fiery witch.

Albus conjured two sets of portkeys and handed one over to Nate and Scott. As he did so he spoke the words "The Order of the Phoenix is located at ..."

"Number 12 Grimmauld Place, yeah we got it." Scott said as he and Nate grabbed the Portkey. Both men were incredibly satisfied with the stunned expression on Dumbledore's face.

The Portkey unceremoniously dropped the two brothers into the middle of the atrium of the old Black house. Both men hit the floor with two loud thunks that seemed to shake the house. Unfortunately it was also more than enough to wake the portrait of Mrs. Black.

The screeching of the old hag lit up their ears and caused a near unbearable pain. Scott stumbled upright and staggered over to the portrait. He grabbed the two curtains and paused briefly, an idea immediately coming into his head. He fished out a zippo lighter from his combat vest, one of a dozen tools. Scott flicked open the lighter with a distinctive click and struck the flint. A spark of fire lit up the painting.

The screeching silenced immediately.

"Now that I have your attention, I am politely asking you to shut the fuck up!" Scott snarled, "If I hear your annoying voice again I will come right back here and burn you where you stand. Understand?"

Mrs. Black, a disgusting hag with several wrinkles lining her face gazed through the portrait at the spark of fire. She slowly smiled and gave Scott a short bow. Scott nodded back at her and snapped the zippo shut.

As he spun around he was met with the stunned expressions of the Order as well as a grinning brother. Scott gazed at them a minute before giving a little shrug.

"You have a way with the women, bro." Nate guffawed. Scott growled and flipped him the bird.

"Shall we adjourn to the kitchen?" Albus asked. He directed the group into a massive kitchen with a long table capable of seating twenty comfortably. Albus, instead of taking the lead seat, sat across from the brother's so he could look them in the eyes.

"No that we're all settled, perhaps you should elaborate on your plans for Harry Potter?" Albus asked. Scott noticed the grandfather demeanor was gone, replaced with something colder.

The brother's had discussed their plans in great detail as they were planning their assault on Malfoy Manor. It wouldn't do to keep hitting the death eaters over and over again. Their small guerrilla force would scatter across the planet and become instantly impossible to eradicate. Instead they needed a more ordered approach, one that stemmed from good preparation, timing, and supreme patience.

"At the moment we have dealt the death eaters and Voldemort a serious blow. Thirty eight of his minions are dead, added to eight of his inner circle. Voldemort's spirit is roaming once again, and we have scattered his support base. As of this moment he is searching for a way to return to his physical form.

"Our plan is long but simple. Over the next four months, we will be taking Harry Potter under our wing. Nate and I will put him through a tough regimen of physical training and combat tactics. In this we will get him to a confident level in hand to hand combat, both armed and unarmed. I understand most wizards have an extreme aversion to muggle firearms?" Scott explained. He looked to Albus for his answer. The old wizard simply nodded.

"Right," Scott continued, "That means we can't teach him to shoot. Such a thing would be a PR nightmare for Mr. Potter's reputation. That could easily whittle away his support base in Britain. Instead he will learn unarmed combat, followed by a regimen of knife, dagger, baton, and hatchet fighting styles. We're going to build him up physically and get some combat tactics into him."

Scott had to pause for another uproar. All of the order members save Albus, Remus, and Moody were on their feet and shouting at the mercenaries. Albus did nothing to silence the rampage, rather letting the Order shout themselves out.

"That is a dangerous combination to be teaching him," Albus said. Scott sighed and spread his hands out on the table. He took his time with how he answered, every word had to be spoken carefully.

"We know about the plans you have for the boy. We know of the three items of power you seek to accumulate. What you need to understand Dumbledore, is all your plans went out the window the moment we got here. That boy is a key soldier in this war, and he has survived so far by luck and luck alone. That same luck failed him two weeks ago, and he paid dearly for it.

"He needs to learn how to defend himself beyond the use of spells and magic. He needs to build up his endurance so he can last longer, fight harder, and if need be, run farther."

Scott sat back and gazed at them silently.

"Once again, they be speakin sense," Moody said. Albus looked at him for a moment.

"Alastor my friend, your proactive war stance rises again. I can always count on you to go on the offensive."

The gruff Auror spat to the side amidst a glare from Molly.

"Hell Albus, bloody order's defensive as it is! Can't win a war this a way."

"Remus?" Albus probed. The old werewolf gazed at him with drawn eyes. He looked pale and tired, like his spirit had been washed up. He seemed to roll his words around in his mind before he spoke softly.

"Anything that will increase Harry's survival. I can't lose another one, Albus."

"Then it's settled. I suppose you have a routine drawn up already?" Albus looked to Scott, but it was Nate who answered.

"How'd you know?" Albus chuckled at him.

"You two are too thought out to not have one in place. Let us hear it."

"It's rather simple. An hour of PT in the morning to build cardio and endurance, three hours of unarmed training, lunch, a short break, magical dueling and theory in the afternoons, evenings are taken up but more PT focusing on physical strength and muscle building. Repeat. Once the kid has the basics, we start armed training with knives, batons, and daggers. Maybe some fencing if we have the time." Nate explained.

"Anything required of our end?" Albus asked curiously.

"A good magical duelist to train the kid in his magic. We'll need somewhere to train and run laps."

"I have just the men in mind. Filius and Severus are two of the best duelers I know. As for training space, there should be a large dojo in the basement. We can magically expand it to give you the room you need. I have but one request: That you extend some of your training to Hermione Granger and Ronald Weasley."

"His friends?" Nate asked. He already knew the fact but they were in the presence of others. Not all of the Order had heard the story of alternate universes.

"Indeed, both of whom I believe will be very important to Harry's future."

"Very well, we will also be instructing Harry on the Scary H. At least from what we know of it. I also recommend you tell Harry all of Snape's past history." Scott broke in. Albus looked at him sharply.

"I do not feel that is wise. There is much animosity between the two." the old wizard warned.

"Trust me. Better yet, trust Harry. He's a good kid, and very forgiving."

"Indeed."

"Albus are you really going to listen to these muggles?" Molly cut in. The way she said the word muggle made Scott's blood boil, but he held his tongue.

"These are two men who get their way no matter what. I do not see a better choice." Albus said.

Scott smirked.

"We'll find a room and store our gear upstairs. I suggest bringing Harry here as soon as he gets out of school. We ain't got a lot of time."

As the two men left, Scott turned around.

"Dumbledore, there's always a choice. The better question is can you live with the consequences after?"

* * *

**Right so there's chapter 8. About two more to go before we make a universe jump. In two more we kick more death eater ass and save the day.**

**Cruailsama = Congratulations! You are the first reviewer for the story, so I have decided to immortalize you for all time! Thank you for pledging your support and I am glad you are enjoying the show. You are the inspiration that cause me to sit down and right the next chapter.**

**But I need more! Tell me I'm good! Tell me I'm bad and explain why! Criticize! Praise! But give me more reviews. I need them. They fuel my soul.**


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